Tricks & Treats
by CodyRhodesFan
Summary: For my friends and reviewers. A bunch of horrifying gore-filled one-shots. Get your treats, sweethearts! I NEED REQUESTS! 8D From horror-sex, SPN, S&M, death, graphicness... Another one for KitKat!
1. The List RandyCena

**I like Halloween. The month is dark. Horror movies are released and even if it's not practiced in my religion, I wanna write this a few very dark pieces to some of my friends that truly deserve it. Look out for your name. You might be shocked…or not. XD. **

* * *

**Title: The List  
Summary: I made this list and one day, it was all gone. The next day, everyone in the list was just dead…and the last person on the list…Randy…oh damn. What the hell was I supposed to do? Cenaton.  
For: _Shaddin_.**

* * *

The List

_I wish these people would just die sometimes…_

_1. Mike "The Miz" Mizanin  
2. Cody Rhodes  
3. Ted DiBiase_

_Save the best for last…_

_4. Randy Orton_

* * *

No one could really see what was wrong in the world.

I did.

I was one of the rare people that knew that the real pain of the world was that when life went so hard, you decided to end it all, suicidal people that just killed themselves to end and relieve the pain and only little of us made it through calm throughout life. I didn't stress out and I chose to make through the pain and agony of daily events. That was just like me. I didn't want to end my life just because a little stress bubbled through my life.

We all did wrong.

But I never expected my wrong to push me to the limit.

There was always a limit to what a mind can do before it blew up into pieces.

There was always a limit to how much a voice can scream before it just can't.

There was always a limit to how much a body could break before it remained broken.

I sped up my speed. Broke myself. As hard as ever. And I couldn't pick up the pieces without hurting myself all the more. I fucked up hard. I had no one having my back at all. I was alone.

All alone.

I didn't belong anywhere.

We all needed to be strong.

To battle.

We all needed to be smart.

Tactic.

I had nothing anymore.

Pushed behind my limit.

Crumpled.

Broken.

I was John Cena.

And I reached my limit.

My breaking point.

I can't take this anymore…

* * *

I can't stay here anymore.

The first time I'd seen a kill, I almost died on the inside. I'd stared down in the ring as Mike started to hyperventilate and I could remember how short and sharp those breaths were and how pale his face was and how his blue eyes turned so clear that they looked white and all of a sudden, he started coughing and coughing blood and I was just staring there, wondering what could've done this, every droplet of blood that rose to his throat went to the floor, and his eyes were begging.

"Please…"

He was in the ring and he died there, too.

Mike Mizanin died in front of me. In front of thousands in viewers.

He was gone forever.

No one cared.

But me.

_I'm sorry, Mike…_

I can't stay in the ring, knowing that his blood had once stained in the ring and he had died there…his life ended there in the ring…

And he was so young.

_Mike…_

* * *

I kept seeing Mike in my dreams.

He was dying. He was lunging for life. He was waiting to be saved.

And I stood there. Frozen. No words coming out of my mouth.

I was horrible.

This was all too horrible.

"Mike…?"

I woke up in the middle of the night, hyperventilating, no words coming out of my mouth as I tried to understand this curse and as I passed by Mike's locker, I opened up his locker and saw only a tiny black bottle of water and next to it, there was a bottle of pills.

Mike killed himself.

I just wouldn't believe it.

And I still can't help but feel guilty.

Mike…?

And there, scrunched in the back of Mike's locker, written in Mike's blood, stained and dry, _I love you, Jonathon Cena._

And my heart was about to stop.

He loved me.

I hated him.

Guilty.

That night, as I slept with a teddy bear I was proud to name Mike, I huddled to the bed and my heart was ready to explode and I kept hearing lullabies coming from Mike's lips, making my spine shiver and shake. Lullabies?

"_Baby, don't cry… I'll sing this one last song…before I'm gone….baby, don't cry…you're not gonna die… you'll just spread your wings and fly…I'll sing this one last song…before I die…baby, don't cry…"_

And I forgot how to fall asleep.

* * *

I had a story to tell.

A story of horror.

Mike's death wasn't the last.

It was the first.

And then, I just saw Cody Rhodes walk towards me with a weak smile on his face and then I just heard his scream and when we all rushed to the Legacy locker room, Ted DiBiase had leaned down, tears burning down his eyes as he held Cody's dead body and sobs escaped his throat and I can't handle seeing this anymore. Cody Rhodes. Dead. Very dead. His skin was so dead. His eyes were so shut tight.

He was gone.

My heart thudded so hard throughout the day.

I thought I was going to die too.

* * *

And the next day, I just watched Ted DiBiase get run over by a truck.

A battered body in the middle of the road.

Horrifying.

Terrifying.

I can't breathe.

Hard and quick, his body fell and his brains were everywhere and my stomach was ready to throw up and I watched Randy Orton's wide eyes as he held back his tears and just then I realized that he and I were so alike.

Next day, as I passed by the parking lot, I saw that there was stained blood on the road.

_He'll never love you again._

I passed by the Legacy locker room, where Cody had died, there was stained blood writing that made my heart flip.

_I LOVE YOU! Don't listen to him._

I just didn't understand anything.

The lullabies still haunted me. The blood still followed me. The horror still burned through me. I couldn't breathe. I can't breathe at all. I was breaking into pieces and…I wanted to breathe.

I still can't.

Today was one of the last day I really took a breath.

* * *

Love and hate was burning me away.

I just realized…

Mike. Cody. Ted. They were all on my list and some of the others were all crossed out and there was nothing left but…Randy.

Horror reeled through my body.

I ran towards Randy's locker room only to find him picking up his bag and he looked straight at me in confusion and I grabbed onto his wrist and pulled him away from his locker, causing him to shriek in confusion. "What the hell are you doing, Cena?"

"Saving your life…"

"Cena?"

I stopped in my place.

"Mike. Cody. Ted. They were all on my list and they all died and—then—you were the last one on the list and I can't have you dead, right?" I asked him and he stared at me in horror and terror.

"A list?"

We were still in the Legacy locker room when we heard the doors shut tight and the lights went black and we stared into each other's eyes in confusion.

"If you can't love me…you can't love anyone…"

That voice.

Mike's?

It can't be.

When I saw that figure standing there, with a black cloak over his body, taking off the cloak, he exposed his very pale face and those blue eyes and that cracked skin and it was Mike.

My heart was ready to skip a beat.

Our Mike?

How could he do anything like this?

I held onto Randy's wrist. "Why are you doing this, Mike?"

"I love you," Mike snapped, coming forward and his eyes were on me and me only. "And they all loved you. The ones you hated were the ones that loved you. Ted. Cody. Me. Randy. They all love you but I won't let them do this to you! You're mine!"

"Mike…you're dead…" I whispered.

"I chose to be dead. I needed to go out of here. I needed to die." His voice was breaking and cracking and his eyes were tearing up. "Isn't John just perfect, Randy?"

"I hate his fucking guts! I don't know what you're talking about!" Randy's voice was so confident and defiant and I couldn't understand how there could be any emotion other than hate there for me.

_Randy_…

He was beautiful.

I had to admit this.

He was perfect.

His eyes twinkled. His nose was perfect. His smile was perfect. _He_ was perfect.

Mike had a knife in his hands and he reached in to kill Randy but I couldn't let him and Randy's frozen in his place and I—I—I stood in front of him, the knife inside of my heart, the blood that poured out…

And…

_Black_.

* * *

Where was I…?

What were these colors…?

I looked down to see my own coffin and I looked around to see my Randy standing there, with a fixed face and he still had no emotions and when everyone was gone, his body just broke down and I knew that he reached his limit, too. His tears burning down all too quickly. No words coming out of his mouth.

I saw the gates of Heaven open in front of me.

I wanted to go home.

Back to Randy.

I didn't deserve this life.

I still had no soul. Randy still owned that part of me when I had seen those eyes burn with tears. That he cared.

"Don't let me go, John…"

* * *

I stared up at the stars of the world.

Randy was standing there, staring up next to me but he didn't know I was here. He really couldn't see me at all.

The stars echoed our names.

I pressed my lips towards his ear.

"Every star's got its ending…"

He smiled as tears filled his eyes.

"_Soon, my darling, very soon, I'll get to hold you."_

He was still too frozen in his place. Just us in the room and that was all I hoped it would be. My hand running down his back and he kept on shaking at the coldness of my hand. Very soon, he'll be able to see me. He'll be joining me.

My Randy.

"_Baby, don't cry…I'm gonna be here when you die…"_

* * *

**This was…**_**weird**_**? I don't know. I hope you liked this, Shaddin! :D**

**Next one:**

**Title: Costumes  
Summary: "Smile, Phil," Mark's fingers traced along the ravenette's cheek, and Phil shivered at the sudden warmth that over washed his body. "Why won't you smile for me, my little pixie?" PUNKERTAKER.  
For: _gameboycjp10_, Cody. ;)  
**

**X Sam.**


	2. Costumes MarkPhil

**In answer to _browngirlwrites_, yeah, Punkertaker has taking its toll on me but I'm afraid that Cody loves the couple, too ever since he read '_Nightshifters'_. So yeah… Hope you like this. Enjoy this story, sweethearts.**

* * *

**Title****: Costumes  
****Summary****: "Smile, Phil," Mark's fingers traced along the ravenette's cheek, and Phil shivered at the sudden warmth that over washed his body. "Why won't you smile for me, my little pixie?"  
****For****: **_**gameboycjp10**_**, Cody.**

* * *

It was eight o'clock that night when Mark had first seen the pixie-dressed Phil hopping from his table to the white table in front of him to get a much needed cool Pepsi can.

Mark watched him from a far.

Phil whipped his head and little pieces of his straight hair came on his neck and Mark could see the faint hint of Phil's pale skin underneath the mass of hair and it was almost calling out for Mark to bite Phil's neck, to shower him with much need and want. Mark's fingers twisted into each other as he rolled his tongue in his mouth. His Phil. Beautiful. His Phil.

What caught Mark's eyes most was that his little pixie had no smile.

Throughout the party, he had no smile.

There was only sadness and lack of amusement in his eyes as he sipped his acidic bottle of liquid and when Phil's olive eyes caught Mark's green eyes and Phil's heart was ready to pound of his chest.

Mark moved towards Phil, and Phil couldn't move away.

Frozen little pixie.

Mark walked towards him, his hand on Phil's ear and he stared deep into those eyes and Mark's eyes trailed down Phil's body, his pixie frilly clothing fitting him loosely and he found it amusing that his Phil would dress up as something so simple and so childish and so…

_Happy_.

"Aww, why so sad?" his voice was mocking and taunting and dark.

Phil had noticed all of this as he stared deep into Mark's eyes, unable to tear his face away from the Undertaker's own face. When Phil did step away, it was to walk away and he could feel Mark follow him until they reached one of the rooms and Phil stepped inside, still horrified as he tried to lock the door but he realized that Mark was there at the doorway.

"What the hell do you want from me?" Phil tried not to sound scared but there was a hint of fear lacing his words.

_Those_ _eyes_ that were staring at him.

Silently undressing him.

"Smile, Phil," Mark's fingers traced along the ravenette's cheek, and Phil shivered at the sudden warmth that over washed his body. "Why won't you smile for me, my little pixie?"

Phil's tight line was still too pressed. Phil shook his head. "Just go away, Mark! I don't need you around-"and he spun on his heel, Mark's hand gripping onto Phil's wrist and both of their eyes locked together once more as Phil's heart thudded too quickly in his chest and Mark stepped towards him, causing Phil to freeze in his place. Mark stepped closer to Phil, lifting his chin and he leaned down and captured Phil's kiss into a passionate kiss, and as Mark leaned away, his eyes still on Phil's face.

"Why the fuck did you just do that?" Phil snapped at him as Mark's hands went towards Phil's waist, his hand running down Phil's back…

"Because your soul is mine, isn't it?" Mark's hot breath was on Phil's cold face and Mark leaned down so that Phil and his' face were only inches away from each other. "Mine, aren't you, my little pixie?"

Phil gulped down the lump in his throat. "You-"

"Say it," Mark commanded him. His eyes springing to life. "Say that you're mine."

Phil gulped down once more and stared nervously into Mark's eyes but he didn't say anything for his while as his breathing turned shallow. "No."

"Say it." Mark's voice was strong now, more demanding.

"No!" Phil exclaimed, knocking himself down onto the floor as his knees gave way and he fell on his knees and Mark's fingers were still tracing along the skin of Phil's cheek. _Mine. Mine. Mine_. And Phil knew that, didn't he? His skin didn't belong to Phil. His heart didn't belong to Phil. Nothing of Phil's body ever belonged to Phil. All Mark's. Forever.

"Very well."

A smirk covered Mark's face and he tore off Phil's too bright costume into shreds as he ripped his underwear from his body, leaving Phil naked on the floor with shock in his eyes. Mark had swiftly taken off his own clothing as Phil shook from underneath him, his eyes filled with terror and fear as Mark leaned down towards him and took Phil's chin and both of their tongues twisted into a rage of dominance.

"No more costumes, my little pixie."

Mark leaned down towards him, putting a finger into Phil's dick, causing Phil to squeak once, his body still shaking while Mark pushed another finger inside of him and Mark's smirk widened as a third finger was inserted, digging deep into Phil and Phil groaned in both pleasure and pain as Phil let his own head fall onto his shoulder. "Mark, I-"

Mark tackled Phil's mouth and he bit down his lip, drawing blood from the kiss as Mark leaned away and as soon as Phil tried to catch his breath, Mark pulled in for another kiss, forcing Phil to agree with what was happening as Phil's eyes stared at Mark's face. Mark's voice was cold into Phil's ear, "do it, Phil. Say you want me, my pixie."

"I don't-I-"Phil stuttered but when he looked deep into Mark's demanding eyes, he sighed and nodded his head, finally submitting. "I want you, Mark."

That was all that took for Mark to push deep into Phil, causing Phil to shriek with horror and pain, wrenched with waves of desolation and agony but also, there was an inevitable faint feel of pleasure in all this pain, sadistic pleasure—and Mark kept on thrusting into Phil, harder and faster, causing Phil to groan and moan all at once, from the pleasure and the pain that was mixed into the mixture of feelings and emotions that was pooling in his body. Finally, with one breath escaping from Mark's mouth, the Deadman spoke, "Phil, I want you to throw your little pixie dust away. Okay, Tinkerbell?"

Phil whimpered and nodded his head and soon, Phil came to his release, which caused Mark to come inside of Phil as well and as Mark's hand ran through Phil's chest, a sadistic chuckle falling out of Mark's voice, Phil whimpered once more. "I'm sorry, pixie…did Tinkerbell lose all of his fairy dust? Doesn't Tinkerbell have the inability to light up again? …Is Tinkerbell dying with his pixie dust?"

Phil whimpered and slowly nodded his head, tears finally falling out of the traumatized Phil's eyes.

Mark's hand cupped Phil's cheek softly and both of their eyes locked with each other like too many times that night. "Don't worry, Tinkerbell. I believe…doesn't that count?" Phil's head was on Mark's chest, pressing against the cool flesh of Mark's as Mark cradled the tiny Chicago native, running his fingers down Phil's hair and the silence suffocated them.

"Don't worry, Tinkerbell…one day, you'll be able to fly again…my little pixie…"

* * *

**I loved this for some reason. Way better than the first one. It's dark and…**_**dark**_**. **

**Only I can make a fairytale character like this. XD.**

**Next one…also for Cody…one with dom!Phil & one with sub!Phil. ;)**

**Title****: Play Things  
****Summary****: "I swear Phil, I'm not joking…" Mike's eyes twinkled with horror. "Please, Phil, believe me." "I don't believe a word coming out of your pretty much anymore, Mizanin." The coldness in his voice caused Mike's heart to shatter.  
****For****: **_**gameboycjp10**_**. **

**X Sam.**


	3. Play Things Part 1 MikePhil

**I like this one. Yeah, it's dark and has supernatural stuff but hey! It's so me! **

* * *

**Title: Play Things – Part 1  
Summary: "I swear Phil, I'm not joking…" Mike's eyes twinkled with horror. "Please, Phil, believe me." "I don't believe a word coming out of your pretty mouth anymore, Mizanin." The coldness in his voice caused Mike's heart to shatter.  
For: _gameboycjp10_. **

* * *

—_Mike "The Miz" Mizanin_

I knew I sounded crazy.

But I could see ghosts.

I could see vengeful ghosts only.

I knew I sounded like I had a psych 101 label on me but I didn't. I didn't know how could this happen but it had been all my life. I could see the vengeful ghosts that were greedy with revenge and ravenous with vengeance and I knew who they were after and it had been this way all my life.

Phil and I had split off after two months of dating.

And I had been dating John Cena.

John…

Got into a car accident.

Saw a million faces.

Broke me into pieces.

I watched him die, his baby blue eyes had closed off so quickly and there was that last breath of his on my face and _I-I-I_ could remember everything…

Horrifying.

They'd never believe me if I said that I was seeing John.

They'd say that I was hallucinating.

But I knew that his body was real and his words were real and his eyes…his eyes…were the only thing that kept me sane right now.

It had been a year since John's accident.

And it was time to move on.

* * *

—_Mike "The Miz" Mizanin_

"_Don't do this to me, baby/you know that he's not good enough for you/I love you and I still do/why the hell are you doing this?"_

My heart was battering with pain and agony and desolation.

John's voice in my head.

He'd never show himself except only at night.

I was safe now. Just his voice.

I saw Phil standing there, putting a book he halfway read into a locker and I could never understand why Phil loved those historical fictions so much but I shook my head and walked towards Phil.

"Hello!"

Phil twisted his head. "Oh look who's there…isn't it, Mike Mizanin?" his voice was cold and I knew that he was still bitching about what happened too long ago.

"_Get away from him, Mike."_

His voice was dripping with honey and cream, irresistible mixtures of his voice.

"What you doing, Phil?" I poked my head in his locker and he pushed me off but I still managed to keep a smile on my face. I always had this too much hyped up feeling. "Ooh, someone's secretive."

He shot me a glare. "What do you want, Mizanin?"

"Nothing…"

"Then get away," Phil snapped at me.

"_Get away from him, Mike. He won't love you."_

"You know, it's been more than a year since that…why can't you move on?"

Phil stared at me before his eyes filled with rage. "Because you fucking act like we've never dated! You act like I haven't memorized every inch of your body! It's like you never loved me! So why should I pretend to care when you don't? Run off to Cena, Mike."

"_Leave, Mike."_

I frowned at him. "Phil, it's been more than a year. You know that I care. I just…"

"Get away."

That time, I obeyed his wishes and walked away.

* * *

—_John Cena_

He was mine.

Phil fucking Brooks should know that.

Mike Mizanin was mine.

He shouldn't think about him this way.

I won't let him touch my Mike ever again.

* * *

—_Mike "The Miz" Mizanin_

He kept on telling me those words.

"_Phil will never love you/don't waste your time with him."_

There was still this hint of a feeling I had for Mike.

If I didn't have anything for him, I wouldn't be sitting on my bed, crying over what he said. But then, as I walked into the middle of the room, my mind was exploding when John had said those words.

He appeared in front of me.

Same eyes.

Same face.

Same body.

So pale.

"_If he dares insult you again/I swear I'll kill him."_

* * *

—_John Cena_

And when I saw him insult my Mike again, I couldn't take it anymore.

Most people only joke when they say 'I'll kill him' but I didn't joke. I took the knife and slowly approached Phil, who was standing there, cutting a carrot and eating a few bites so quickly and he couldn't feel my presence…

He deserved to die.

No one insulted my Mike.

No one hurt my Mike.

That was just the fact.

* * *

—_Mike "The Miz" Mizanin_

"Wake up!"

The only thing that shook me awake was John Morrison and he stared at me with those horrified, wide eyes.

"W-what?" I whispered, rubbing my eyelids out.

I hated John Morrison with a passion.

But he saw these things too.

I didn't know how he could but he did.

I saw vengeful ghosts and he'd helped child ghosts instead. That was why we formed the Tag Team but then we just started to break into pieces and that was just it. It wasn't meant to be.

But if he was here—

"You remember Allison?"

I nodded my head. "Allie is John's niece…"

"She told me that John was gonna kill Phil…can you imagine how obsessed John is with you? He's attached to you! He doesn't wanna let you go! Can't imagine why-"

With that, I was already out the door.

* * *

—_Mike "The Miz" Mizanin_

"Phil…don't hang up."

"What do you want, Mizanin?"

"I know this is gonna sound crazy but I can see ghosts and remember that John's dead and-and-dammit, he wants to kill you!"

"Ha, ha, I'm laughing my ass off. Get a better joke."

"PHIL! I'm fucking serious!"

"I totally believe you." Dry. Too dry and bitter.

"Phil…"

"Call me when you have a better joke."

"I swear Phil, I'm not joking…" I could feel the horror that burned to the core of my eyes. "Please, Phil, believe me."

"I don't believe a word coming out of your pretty mouth anymore, Mizanin." The coldness in his voice caused my heart to shatter.

"…Phil…"

"Get a better joke-!"

All I could remember was my car slamming into a tree and lots of blood and I thought I could see glass with hot sticky blood dripping and-and-

Nothing.

* * *

—_Mike "The Miz" Mizanin_

Phil.

I had to reach Phil.

My body was aching and my head was spinning and I was bleeding like hell but I needed to reach Phil now. I couldn't let him die just because of John—and John…my head was consumed by too many thoughts.

"Phil?!"

My lungs gave way by the first time I shouted his name.

I saw his house and walked inside and there was so much blood on the walls and I feared that it was already late…

No…

My Phil can't be dead!

I rushed into the room but couldn't see anything anywhere. Just a confused Phil holding onto his head as he stared at me. "Mike…?"

I could hear a snicker coming from behind me and I twisted my head to look into that of Cena and my heart pounded. "John?"

"_You'll understand, sweetheart, soon enough…"_

"No! I don't want to understand!" I was tired and I wanted to go home and roll under my bed and just rot there. I didn't want this shit anymore. I was so damn tired… "John, Phil loves me…"

"_He doesn't,"_ John snapped. _"He hates you."_

"John…please let go of me."

"_I won't."_

"John…he loves me—"

"_He doesn't love you; stop living in these clouds, Mike!"_

"I love him!" Phil suddenly exclaimed and walked towards me, holding my side and looking deep into me. "I love him and I care about him and even if he just tick me off…he's all I've been thinking about…I'm sorry…I'm sorry for doing this to you…"

"Phil, you're so cold."

"Mike…you're too late. John killed me. I'm dead."

My heart was about to stop.

"No, this always happens to me…" I whispered, tears spilling out of my eyes. "Why does this always happen to me? Are my emotions play things…?"

"Mike…" Phil whispered.

"I guess it's just not to meant to be…" I continued to whisper.

Phil stepped in front of me, holding me by my shoulder and giving me such a sweet kiss I wouldn't even guess that he was dead, "And you don't have to be our play thing anymore, Mike…we're your play things…"

"I…I'm in love with a dead guy…"

But I didn't regret it anymore.

Not one bit.

"_I guess you do love him, Brooks."_

Phil snapped his head towards John. "No doubt about it. Let me take you to bed, Mike…"

I nodded my head and allowed him to walk me home, cover my cuts with bandages and just as he was about to go, I held his hand, "don't go…"

"I'll be back. You can't shake me off."

…

One thing confused me.

I saw _vengeful_ ghosts.

Was Phil _vengeful_…?

* * *

**I am so evil leaving it there but I didn't know where to end it. But this is just Part 1 so in Part 2… yeah…& see, Cody, I put in a little bit of Mizena love for ya!!  
**

**But until I get my muses ready for Part 2, here's the next one-shot.**

**Title: Loss Of Blood  
Summary: He was so broken and he needed to be fixed. Hunter took that too literally… Hunter/Cena.  
For: Esha Napoleon. XD. Hope I got your name right.**

**Review?**

**X Sam.**


	4. Loss Of Blood HunterCena

**Another dark one for the charts…**

* * *

**Title: Loss Of Blood  
Summary: He was so broken and he needed to be fixed. Hunter took that too literally… Hunter/Cena.  
For: **_**Esha Napoleon**_**.**

* * *

The scent of blood overwhelms the room.

Hunter leans down towards his fiancé, his John, who's cowering in fear and his eyes are wide open and he can't move away as Hunter cups John Cena's cheek and Hunter leans down to capture John's lips into a quick kiss. "Stop shaking, love. It'll all be over." Cena nods his head, tears sprinkling out of his eyes, unable to say any words. "All over now…" his voice was barely a voice, just a whisper.

Hunter's hand pulls out a razor from the drawer.

Hunter kisses John's ear and bites the soft cartilage of his earlobe, making John release a soft whimper from his mouth. "Hunter…"

"You said you wanted to be fixed, love," Hunter runs his hand down John's back, bringing him close to him, "and I tried everything…but apparently, the only way you can be happy…is if you go to Heaven right now, right, doll?"

John watches as Hunter runs his fingers down John's ear, "and the only way out is this, right, baby?"

"Hunter, please, don't make this hard on any of us…"

John Cena wants to be fixed.

He's broken.

But not like this.

"I'm not making this hard. I'm trying to make it easy…easy…" Hunter bites John's ear once more, nibbling on the earlobe as Hunter feels the blood run down his mouth as John whimpers. "Don't be scared, sweetheart. I know best…"

"Hunter, I'm scared."

Hunter doesn't listen to John at all but instead, he puts the razor on the floor and John's just glad but then his tension rises once more when John watches Hunter take off his clothing. "Hunter…" John's puzzled as Hunter pulls him back towards him, both of their bodies pressing against each other, John's naked while Hunter is fully clothed and John knows that this insanity isn't going to end there…

Hunter's razor is there, on the floor, so dull yet John's trying to get away from him, but Hunter's still holding onto him, making him unable to breathe as Hunter runs the razor down John's arm and the blood pours out of John's arm. "Hunter, why are you doing this?" John's choking. "…remember? Remember, Hunter?! We used to share ice cream in this room and we used to laugh and cry…and…Hunter! Please, why?!

"Remember, Hunter, we used to love this room…it's where you said you'd let our children live…" this room in their very house. "You don't want this to happen, Hunter! You don't want me to die…you love me…you said you loved me…"

Hunter has a soft chuckle escaping his breath. "Baby, I'm doing this for you…"

"You're hurting me."

"Love hurts, baby."

And with that, Hunter razor rips through John's skin again, hard and quick, and John watches as the blood falls from his skin and he doesn't say another word at all. "Hunter…" he suddenly whispers, tears falling out of his eyes. "I love you…"

"I love you, too, sweetheart and that's why you don't deserve this world. You deserve the best I can give you. Heaven." Hunter curls his tongue in his lips and rips the razor through his chest, making John cry out even harder. "John, don't you want this all to end? You always tell me you want it to…and I give you what you want me to…I'll end this horrible life for you…"

John's dying.

And he's dying at the hands of Hunter.

He looks at his lover one more time as Hunter leans down to kiss him and John's eyes slowly close and Hunter knows that he's dead as he ruffles through John's hair. All of his blood on the floor and nothing left in his body. _"There, there, love, it's all over now…"_

* * *

**I know this one is _so short_ but I didn't know what to add! Forgive me??? Pwease? Reviews?**

**Next one (probably be uploaded today!):**

**Title: Knife Of You  
Summary: No one could know that THEY were in love. Because they were the ODDEST pairing ever but that didn't make them any less in love. SURPRISE PAIRING.  
For: no one. Just something I _needed_ to do.**

**X Sam.**


	5. Knife Of You ShockPairing

**And check this out, the **_italics_** are **_flashbacks_** and the normal script format would be present. I don't know why I bother saying this since I always do it this way. XD. Okay, try to guess the pairing I'm doing. It's pretty simple, the last two people in the world that anyone would think of :P but anyways…back to the story…I'd love to hear what you guessed! :)**

**This isn't as much of a horror as it of an angst. But I think that the thoughts are black enough to be horror. :)**

* * *

**Title: Knife Of You  
Summary: No one could know that THEY were in love. Because they were the ODDEST pairing ever but that didn't make them any less in love. SURPRISE PAIRING.  
For: no one. Just something I **_**needed**_** to do.**

* * *

"_Go to sleep, baby."_

_He ran his hand down my hair, the soft flesh of his brushing against my hair, causing a shiver to run down my spine as pleasure seeped through me just at his touch and as a smile curved towards his mouth, he leaned down to capture my lips into a kiss as I moved slightly, the joy stick still in my hands as I gripped onto the solid object and sweat poured out of my pores._

_He pulled me down and kissed me one last time, "I'm gonna go get some ice. You stay here and fall asleep."_

"_I'm not a kid. I know when my bedtime is."_

_He nodded his head and walked off and I grabbed onto that pale arm and I kissed it, causing a weak smile to form on his face. Joy filled into my heart, exploding and seeping through every tiny hole of me, bubbling in my hot sticky blood. And when he walked off, I was about to close off my video games but somehow, I got caught up in the scenery and tried to finish it off and I heard the door open with a sigh escaping his lips. "Did I not tell you to go to bed?"_

"_Hey!" I exclaimed, looking at him with a grin. "I got caught up! And besides, this is my last game. Last game. Promise!"_

"_Sometimes, dealing with you is like dealing with a kid," my smile dropped and I ended up staring at him as he sat beside me, running his hand down my side before he pressed his lips towards mine once more, twisting his tongue into my mouth, and there was so much passion and fiery in that kiss that I had to respond and I dropped my joy stick, wrapping my arms around him as he pushed himself on top of me, and right now, I was already too breathless._

_He still had that smile of his, that smile that was so very unique, stretched on his pink lips. And just as he was about to unzip my pants, the entire room went black and he cursed under his breath, taking his weight off of me as I laughed. "What you laughing about?" there was a playful tone to his voice. "You're the one who wants to play video games!"_

_I was younger than him. _

_But that didn't make us the odd couple out of everyone. We were too different. He was controlling but I could live with it and he was so sugary sweet, I could just bite him and I was…I was different. I wasn't as serious as he was half the time—but only because I didn't know how to be. He told me it was because I was young but weren't we both still young? _

_We were both young._

_And we both had heart._

_And we had to see the horror of the world around us as it fell apart, crushed into pieces, shattered._

_I just didn't understand why people thought we didn't belong with each other. They thought that we broke up but I couldn't. He cared about me and I cared about him. I couldn't get away from him. And I wouldn't give into the peer pressure and he promised that he wouldn't._

_We laid on our bed, his hand running down my side as his lips pressed against mine and our tongues twisted into each other while I heard the sound of rain and thunder clapped in the sky and that caused me to move away from him even if I didn't want to and walk outside and see the darkened world around us, the rain and the thunder and he opened up the window, both of us staring down at the world. I watched as a woman ran up from police and a bullet running through her chest, causing her to fall down onto the floor and the blood that was seeping through her chest, the children that were wide eyed, staring at the dead women as the policemen grabbed her by her arm and had taken her off into the back of their car—and I put my head on his shoulder, his hand running down my back. "They're all so young. You're so young. We're so young…" _

_Some people went through their entire lives without seeing a shooting. Those children. Those parents. Us. We were too young to see people dying and we would never be okay with it._

_We didn't belong in this world._

_I loved him and it was forbidden. He was so much older than me but we were still both young and we were in love…_

_It was love, wasn't it?_

"_Go to sleep, baby," he held me and stroked my back, causing my eyelids to slowly close and I could feel tiny tears burning at my eyes but my heavy eyelids shut tight before I could start crying. "This world is so unfair…"_

* * *

This world was so much pain.

Violence twisted in war and horror burning through the sky and the supposed to be blue sky was infusing with a gray color and I could still hear them say _"he's young, he'll never understand"_ and I could understand. I swear I wanted to shuffle out the other wrestlers' voices. I could understand and I was young but that didn't mean I didn't know anything. The image of those children staring at the horror of a dead girl replaying over and over in my head.

What was this world right now?

Wars and violence and druggies and junkies?

I couldn't handle this world anymore.

The image of him getting shot, over and over in my head, the horror that overtook those dark eyes of his as he held onto me, the blood that infused from the pores of his, staining my body and the blood stains of those clothes were still there because I could never wash the only sign of life that I had right now. The stiff, hard stains of his blood on my black clothing—and I stood there today, with a notebook in my arms, the rest of the world staring at me, the wrestlers and I felt my husband's arm wrapping around my waist, kissing my nose but I could never love him the same way I did. We seemed perfect for each other but we weren't. He and I were the same but I still couldn't love him the same way I loved my now dead boyfriend.

How could this happen to him…?

I belonged _with_ him.

I belonged _to_ him.

I wanted to push my husband away.

I wanted to jump in the casket with him, wanted to be buried alongside my baby, my love, my life—and now that he was dead, I was dead inside. The way his body was battered with blood…the dry droplets of blood that still clung and stained his body in that casket and I could still feel his last breath on me, the shortness of it all—h—how could he _dieee_? My _babbbbbby_? My love, my life…and now that he was gone, he'd taken my heart with him…he'd taken my soul with him…and I was left with nothing.

Just blood and flesh and bone standing there.

No emotions.

Just tears.

I wanted to understand why I couldn't just jump in the casket with him. I wanted to understand why my lifeless soul and my battered heart and my tattered mind could be buried with him but my body couldn't be. My body belonged to him anyways…and while I stood there, tears falling freely down my face and everyone else pretended to care but truly, everyone was so numb in this cruel world, everyone so very emotionless—and I knew that in their opinion, I was just a stupid idiot standing there, with too many emotions bubbling and I knew how much I—we—couldn't take this world.

"There, there," my husband's fingers wiped away my tears but my eyes couldn't stop from letting the tears fall. "It's gonna be okay."

It will never be okay.

Not in this world.

Of horror and terror and fear and desolation.

The rain that was falling, mixing with my tears and my supposed to be 'soul mate' was wiping away with no emotion stirring in his eyes, just the same pure chocolate eyes I'd always seen and seeing his eyes, just imagining my loved one instead of him, with those same eyes, just filled with more concern, more pain, more love, more…_e-e-e-everything_. He was my everything…

There was only pain.

There was only hate.

Battered across this world.

Years ago, seeing someone die would cause a person to feel disabled and destroyed and broken for years on end but right now, we could witness our dearest of siblings die in front of us and we wouldn't care because we were so used to seeing the pain and horror and we were used to seeing the terror and fear of the world.

I was laughing, chortles escaping my mouth…

I remembered all those times we talked about wanting a different world. About being different people, about showing the people what was the meaning of heart wrenching pain and terror—

I looked up at the sky.

Where were you now? All up there in Heaven? Or burning in Hell? The thoughts horrified me as I shook and cold arms held me, cold uncaring arms. I see the bits and pieces of the baby blue sky scattering around the too gray clouded sky.

Yes. I hated this world.

And yes, even if I was trying to avoid hate, I was only human and I could hate, couldn't I? I hated this world. I hated this life. I just wanted to be together with _him_ one more time… just one last smile, just one last tear, just one last kiss, just one more time… I wanted to see his body, soaring, flying, my angel.

We were all lying to ourselves, saying that it would okay but it would never be okay and the world was cruel and—

I miss you, baby.

I miss you so much.

I didn't know how to cope without him. My body was just smashed to pieces. He was my everything. I couldn't let him go. I was just so empty inside without him, he'd taken everything with him and—all I wanted to do was still jump in his casket, to see that cold, freezing body one more time, to feel it press against mine, my lovely, lovely angel.

I could still hear the hatred in his words when he talked of this world. I could still hear him calling me childish and in one way, I still was, so very childish.

I was just so sick of this world.

I needed medication because this sickness was burning me. Every virus, every flaw, of this world was damaging my already too empty body and _I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE! PLEASE! WHY DOES IT HAVE TO BE __**T-TH-THIS**__ WAY?!_

…_w-w-why_?

You can give me medicine for the sickness I feel on the inside but that won't make me any better…

Because I'm so dead…

Inside…

_D-d-do_ you care?

* * *

_He stood there, with a smile on that pale face of his and I reached out to squeeze his cheek, leaning in to kiss him and the only thing he could do was respond by wrapping his arms around me._

"_They think we don't belong," he chuckled, lifting my chin so that both of our eyes were drowning into each other's oceans, "why are you taking drum lessons again?"_

"_Because I like the drums."_

_I shrugged. I didn't know why I was taking drum lessons anyways and I picked up one of my sticks and stared at it while his hand reached and grabbed it from me, staring at the wooden thick stick and that moment, he coughed on it and I pushed him off. "No viruses on my drum stick! I can't afford to be sick."_

"_Yes, sweetheart," he grabbed my shoulder, staring me into the eyes as we have too many times and we never did get tired as he leaned down to kiss my shoulder. "I still don't understand why you're taking drum lessons. I like the guitar but you don't see me jumping to learn any chance I get."_

_I nodded my head. "Yeah, I know. I just like to, okay?"_

"_I will never drop this subject. You want to learn the drums because you like the drums? What do you like about them?" he arched his eyebrow and I didn't notice that as much as I noticed that playful smile tugging on his face that I've always adored. _

"_What do you like about the color blue?"_

"_Hmm…it's soft and delicate but it's manly."_

"_And you are so manly," I rolled my eyes, causing him to grab me by the collar of my shirt and taking me on top of him, both of our legs entwined into each other. _

"_Yes, yes, I am," he said, "and I'll show you how manly I could be…"_

* * *

Funny.

I hadn't picked up the drums' stick since and not because he coughed on it or anything, it was because all I could hear were the drums of those damned wars and I didn't like drums anymore. I didn't like anything anymore…

Just him.

I needed him.

To guide me.

And I knew what he meant by childish now. I couldn't make it on this world without him. I needed him by my side but trying to fight it made me mature right?...how could this happen? I thought that true love was supposed to last forever—why did this happen? My heart was wrenching with pain. I couldn't take this anymore. I wanted him. I needed him. Every breath he took made my day. Every heartbeat, every touch, every breath, every smile, every frown, every smirk…he was gone…and I couldn't understand the full concept of why.

Why did we have to suffer?

This world was just so horrible.

Life was too unfair.

I didn't want to fight.

I wanted these senseless wars to end and I wanted to go out there and not be scared that I'd see a child crying because he didn't have a coat on and I didn't want to hear that two million died of car crashes and accidents and hungry and languish and I couldn't handle anything anymore, the pressure was sinking in…I couldn't handle the fact that no one knew how much I cared about him.

I couldn't handle the fact that no one knew we were dating. That we were in love with each other. That our hearts were stitched and when he had died, right in front of me, taking his last breath, those eyes shutting down for the last time, as he left this world, drained out of energy and blood, and now, he ripped my heart and went to the grave with it and he took my soul and my want and need with him. Nothing was left for me…why didn't I have a casket?

* * *

_I strode down with him, down the streets of this battered world._

_It was quiet and dark and the only thing he had was a candle in his hand and I told him that he was old-fashioned but he simply grinned and told me that it was more romantic with candlelight and as we continued to walk, we stopped when we heard a whisper, and my breaths were caught in my throat and I could feel him hyperventilating as a spark of light and the sound of a muffled gunshot filled the air._

_My heart was beating oh so fast and I couldn't take it anymore, the speed of it all, and the explosion in my pumping heart and he pushed me off, looking into my eyes. "Go to our room," he had given me the candle and kissed me, soft and quick, barely worth of anything really. _

_I grabbed onto his wrist. "Don't go."_

"_Go home." His eyes were pleading. He had a habit of calling our hotel room 'home'._

"_I don't have a home…" home was a place where someone felt safe and I never felt safe, alert from the world around me._

"_Don't be so melodramatic," he said, kissing me again but then when he walked off, I still felt insecure and just as I was about to leave after moments of just standing there, I heard that sound of a gunshot and just ran towards him, watching my baby knelt there on the floor, blood battered and splashed across his clothes, just everywhere and I was left there, trying to piece together what was happening as tears threatened to spill from my eyes and I fell down to my knees and he cupped my cheek, held onto me…only a few more short breaths as those widened brown eyes just shut tight…and that was it…he was gone…my angel…_

_I still thought that was a horrible dream._

_I could still feel my heart being ripped out of my chest._

_I could still feel the pain of that day._

"_Come back home…pleaaaaaaaaseeee…" _

* * *

I felt so numb on the inside.

I couldn't really feel anything anymore either but as I had woken up in the middle of the night, the night he died, shaking and sweating and shivering and my eyes caught my face, my reflection, the emotionless expression of my face, the blackness and I slammed my fist towards the bed. "No…I don't want to be like them..."

I decided that I would never act numb.

Even if I felt emotionless.

I wouldn't give up on this world anymore. I would always have my emotions and I would always fight for fair and I would always be this way.

Just now…

I had to do it without him by my side.

And that made the pain harder.

And I still couldn't breathe.

And this knife of his was still pushing through me.

And—

…_w-w-w-w-whyyyyyyyyy…?_

* * *

_I-I-I-I-_

_I can't take it anymore._

_The world…the cruelty…the horror…t-t-t-the terror…I-I-I just __**CAN'T**__. My head, my life, my heart, everything…I-I-I-…_

_I can't breatheeee…_

…_w-w-why am I writing this stupid letter?_

_Why do I keep messing up the words?_

_Smudged by my tears—_

…_and…no one cares…_

…_**I CAN'T TAKE IT ANYMORE.**_

_My only escape…_

_Only way out…_

_Don't pretend to careeee…._

_Because I don't anymoreee…I-I-I'm sorry…_

_Don't waste your fake tears on me…_

_I'm just a stupid child…_

_I love him…_

_I'm gonna be w-w-with my Matt… _

_Home…_

…_-Mike Mizanin_

* * *

**Yes, you got it right. Mike/Matt pairing. **_**YES**_**. I don't know if I shocked any of you but I **_**LOVE**_** this pairing. I love this pairing so very much. It's a close second to Phil/Matt but man…this is better than Cenaton sometimes. Yes, **_**I**_** said that. Ha! **

**If any of you would write this pairing…I'll love you forever. I'll marry you. XD.**

**Next one…**

**Title: Acid Twist  
Summary: "I swear! I know that Cena's a vampire!" Mike exclaimed in distress over the phone. "Mike, you're just imagining things…" Mizena.  
For: a sweetheart by the name of **_**TheMizMagnet**_**. Yay, Aly! XD.**

**After that, Part 2, to '**_**Play Things'.**_** XD. Talk about planning ahead.**

**Review?  
X Sam.**


	6. Acid Twist MikeCena

**I had so much fun with this idea. Just twisted and dark, just like the way I like it. Also, guys, I'm running low on requests so…if you guys would like anything, please, tells me. **

**And now, back to the fic… and anyone who requested before can request again, I have no problems. Want two pairings from ten to two million. XD. I'll see what I can do. :)**

* * *

**Title: Acid Twist  
Summary: "I swear! I know that Cena's a vampire!" Mike exclaimed in distress over the phone. "Mike, you're just imagining things…" Mizena.  
For: a sweetheart by the name of **_**TheMizMagnet**_**. Yay, Aly! XD.**

* * *

Mike Mizanin did not like to share hotel rooms.

Not with Shawn Michaels.

Not with Chris Jericho.

Not with Matt Hardy.

And now, as he kicked his shoes on his bed and waited for his hotel roommate to come, his mind drifted when he heard the sound of John Cena's chortles along with another chuckle he'd almost memorized and he stood up, shoulders stiff as two entered the room, one of them had his backpack, equipped with clothing and his possessions and his other hand held a water bottle and he was right. It was Cena.

His heart thudded.

Next to Cena, was his former _beloved_ tag team partner, John Morrison, and seeing that Morrison was empty handed made Mike's heart relax as Cena threw his bag on the bed and stared at Mike, "look, I don't want any trouble, Michael-"

"I know," Mike snapped coldly. "I don't want any trouble either, Cena."

As hard as Mike tried to hide it, Cena was the object of his affection, the apple of his eye, the sweet candy in a pile of rocks and he was just happy that he was a good actor, otherwise, he and John would be on the bed right now and clothes on the floor, even if Morrison was still there.

Mike kept that smirk on his face as Cena sat down on the bed and he and Morrison talked about the game last night and Mike highly doubted that Morrison had seen it before Morrison had walked out, leaving Mike and John Cena alone.

It took all of the energy in Mike's body not to jump Cena right now.

Mike sighed and turned on the television, though he knew that there was nothing good on TV right now and he rolled to his side to watch John grinning and Mike took time to see those teeth and Mike almost jumped when he noticed two perfect fangs sticking out as his heart raced.

"Something wrong?" John asked, running his hand over his hair.

"Thought I saw a mouse." Mike lied tactfully, rubbing his hand up and down his arm to calm down his still racing and pounding heart as he laid on his bed, completely turning off the TV screen and staring back at John's face, and when he smiled again, the fangs were still there but Mike shook his head. _Just a Halloween prank. Just a Halloween prank. _

But damn, they were so real.

Mike tried to focus on anything else, playing with the simple string that was hanging out of the end of his t-shirt and updating on his Twitter, he kept on glancing at John Cena who seemed to be reading or checking someone on his phone and the concentration of his face—it was so…

Mike shook his head.

Disturbing.

Horrifying.

Something along those lines.

Mike had to go to the bathroom to shower and after hours of thinking and worrying over nothing but a simple Halloween prank, he stepped out of the shower and his eyes widened as he saw droplets of blood falling from John Cena's mouth and Mike stepped back as John twisted his head, wiping away the droplets of blood and from John's eyes, Mike can see that he hoped that Mike did not see that but it was clear…the crimson droplets were blood and Mike knew that.

"What's wrong, man?" John asked, raising an eyebrow.

"N-nothing," Mike stuttered with a hint of fear in his voice but as he took a deep breath to steady himself and picked clothes from his drawer before walking back to the bathroom and slipping his clothing on.

He was sure that was blood.

Crimson.

Blood.

Droplets.

Out of his mouth.

Mike shook his head and stepped out once more. Just a Halloween prank. Just a Halloween prank. The next time he stepped out of the shower, John Morrison and John Cena were there, talking about who knew what and Mike sat down on the bed, his elbows on his knees, sighing.

"What's wrong with you?"

Mike snapped out of his trance and stared at John Cena, who was now alone and he didn't even notice the time pass by.

"You're awfully quiet."

John stood up, stepping towards Mike and when he was standing in front of him, he leaned down, causing Mike to fall back down, staring at him with the same type of fear he had in his eyes when he'd seen blood drop from his mouth, and as Mike tried to steady himself from shaking, John's hand gripped onto Mike's shoulder. Seriousness plastered on his face. "Don't you dare tell anyone about this," his voice was too deadly.

Deadly…?

Mike's eyes widened.

"I know you know, Mizanin. Don't ever speak of it."

* * *

Laughter could be heard at the other end of the line of the phone.

Mike's heart was racing. He couldn't believe this. He was being serious for once and John Morrison was taking him too…_lightly_.

"I swear! I know that Cena's a vampire!" Mike exclaimed in distress over the phone.

"_Mike, you're just imagining things…" _

"I'm not, Morrison."

A sigh escaped the Shaman of Sexy's lips. _"Mike…vampires, are you sure that those things are real?"_

"I've believed in vampire for a very long time." Mike admits. "I know that they're real."

More laughter.

_Oh great._

"_Seriously?! Vampires?!"_

"Yes, vampires."

"…_and how long have you believed in vampires?"_

"…I don't remember. They're real, Morrison."

"_Yeah, sure."_

Dial tone.

Mike threw the phone on the floor and was about to pick it up but felt a cold hand on his shoulder and stepping back to see John's face, Mike's heart exploded from horror. "You think I'm a vampire, don't you?" John's voice was too dark.

Mike slowly nodded his head.

"And you believe in us?"

Mike nodded his head once more.

"…didn't I tell you not to tell anyone about this?" his voice stirring with thickness and darkness.

Mike nodded his head, still unable to speak.

"Well, then, you better run."

Mike took a lamp from the table in front of him and threw it towards John's face and that caused John to bleed and Mike's eyes widened as John sat himself on the bed, trying to take away the blood from his face.

Mike's face turned rigid. "You don't know what a vampire is, Cena. This is a prank."

"Well, duh!" John exclaimed, taking tissues from the table in front of him and draping it on his bloodied face. "I didn't think you'd throw a fucking lamp at me! Sheesh!"

Silence.

Then John's chuckles started to erupt from his mouth. "But _seriously_, you believe in vampires?"

Mike's body was completely frozen as he moved next to John Cena, sitting down beside him. "But next time you do pretend to be a vampire, learn the facts."

"And the facts are…?"

Mike sat down beside him, a smirk settled on his face. "Let's see…vampires don't bleed. First thing. Their skin is very thick and rough."

"And…?"

"And you know that they torture them by dead man's blood and if you want to behead them, you kill them?"

Cena's eyes widened. "I don't wanna know how you know that."

"And…" Mike stood up. "All that stuff about sunlight just isn't true. Though they are more tired in the sunlight."

"And…?"

"My favorite. Vampires know when they find their soul mates."

John laughed. "You're crazy, you know? Believing in fucking vampires of all things."

"Everyone's a little crazy…"

"Mike, what…?"

"Did I ever tell you that when they do find a human mate, they have to turn him into a vampire?"

"Why are you saying this—?"

Just before John can finish that sentence, Mike flashed his teeth and attacked John to the floor and it didn't even take two minutes for Mike to bite John's neck, causing the blood to spew from the flesh and as his teeth bit once more and John's eyes turned wide before Mike's fingers ripped through John's back.

The Cena body laid on the floor.

Mike stood up and wiped the blood off his mouth. "I thought I was the only vampire left…but I'll make sure I'm not…" the playful smirk was still on his lips as he leaned down to kiss the corpse's lips. _"Goodnight, soul mate…" _

* * *

**I know this was sorta weird.**

**But I liked it.**

**I like everything crazy so I don't count.**

**Also...the reason of Mike's fear was because as the ending told you "he thought he was the only one left"... :) Just to sum that up.  
**

**So please, requests, I need them. And… get ready for Play Things Part 2…I don't have a summary for that. XD.**

**X Sam.**


	7. Tearstains & Rusted Chains MarkPhil

**I know I'm supposed to be working on '**_**Play Things – Part 2'**_** but sorry, sweethearts. Today is Phil's birthday and I NEED TO DO SOMETHING THAT'S PHIL CENTRIC. :) Have fun with it. Thanks for the requests! I now know what to do!**

**

* * *

**

**Title: Tearstains & Rusted Chains  
Summary: After CM Punk returns from a birthday party with Matt, he is left held captive by Mark… this night that was supposed to be going well was twisting into horror…PUNKERTAKER.  
For: **_**browngirlwrites**_**. **

* * *

_don't cry, phil._

* * *

Phil's fingers traced alongside the white frosting of his cake and he sighed as he sat down on a chair.

He was by himself.

No one was here.

No one at all.

It was his birthday and he was thirty-one and no one was here but himself. He had to give himself a cake and even though he had sent a thousand cards, over and over, throughout the week, reminding them that today was his birthday, still no one dared to come and he was left here, all alone and no one cared.

Then he heard the sound of the door squeaking.

Matt Hardy stood there with a gift in one hand as he walked towards him, lifting Phil's face so that both were looking at each other and Matt leaned down to give his lover a quick kiss. "Hello, Phil. Anyone come?"

Phil shook his head, pain twisting in every pore of his body "No one really cares. If this was Jeff fucking Hardy, everyone would be here in a flash. I swear. But if it's me…no one even acknowledged that it was my birthday, Matt."

Matt leaned in close and brought Phil towards his chest, rubbing his hand down Phil's back. "Come on, Phil. It's gonna be okay… I mean, maybe they're late or something—"

"I've been waiting for _three_ _hours_, Matt."

"W-what?"

Matt held the distressed Phil towards him and when he looked down at Phil and for five minutes, the boy was quiet. He stood up and held Phil close as he tried to move and drag Phil at the same time and when he reached Phil's car, he pulled Phil towards the back of the car and rubbed Phil's back and after a while, he realized that Phil had truly calmed down.

Phil watched as Matt pulled out a bottle from the gift and when Phil had seen the bottle of liquid, Phil's heart was about to explode as anger boils in his veins. "Matt, alcohol? Of all the fucking things, alcohol?"

"Phil, baby, take one minute to understand," Matt cupped Phil's cheek softly but Phil's blood was still stirring with horror and betrayal and fury. "This is a new year. I want you to start it with a new life. Make others like you. _Here_…"

Phil reached out for the bottle of alcohol and his shoulders were shaking as his solid eyes were glued onto the glassy bottle but looking back at Matt, the only person who cared, he had to do this and he unscrewed the lid and his hands were shaking as he bought the bottle of alcohol towards his lips, staring at Matt. "Matt…I can't…"

"Baby, do this for me."

Phil nodded his head and rubbed his eyes, his tiny tears away from his eyes and Matt shoved the bottle towards Phil's lips as Phil closed his eyes and drank the toxic, acidic liquid down his throat and Phil was about to choke so Matt took away the bottle from his mouth and at that instant, as the liquid ran down Phil's throat, he felt betrayal as he pulled his head on top of Matt's shoulder and Matt ran his hand down Phil's back. "Come on, Phil. It wasn't that back."

In that instant, Phil started to hiccup.

"Phil? You're red!"

Phil's body turned from pale to red in an instant and just as Phil was about to move, Matt held onto Phil's shoulder slyly, just hoping that his body wouldn't ache and as the thirty-one year old shook and shivered, he pulled himself out of the car, suddenly feeling feel nauseous as he leaned towards a pole nearby and just threw up there on the spot. "Phil!" Matt stepped out of the car, walking towards Phil but Phil moved away, walking back towards his house and shutting the door and looking for the key to lock it before Matt was able to open the door but before he could begin his search, Phil felt a hand over his mouth and he felt himself being pushed down towards the floor as his body was dragged towards the cellar…

* * *

_don't cry, phil.  
don't cry.  
it's gonna be fine…it's gonna be okay.  
don't cry, doll._

* * *

His eyes slowly opened and the vivid images were imprinted at the back of his head, slowly stirring.

"W-what happened?"

Phil looked up towards Mark's face as he leaned down towards Phil and cupped his hand over Phil's cheek tightly and leaned down to kiss Phil, causing Phil's heart to go into a heart attack as Mark let his weight crush down towards Phil's and as Phil tried to move, he realized that the shackles were holding him back and were digging in his flesh so badly but he couldn't breathe at all.

His heart was bleeding. His eyes were solidifying. His face was paling. His body was in pain and agonizing and twisting.

Phil tried to push Mark away but the shackles were scraping against his flesh and the blood poured out of his thick veins and arteries and Mark grinned as he pulled out a bottle of tequila from the cellar, causing Phil's eyes to widen. "Please! Not again! No more alcohol! No more good beginnings! Leave me the fuck alone!"

Mark cupped Phil's cheek and kissed Phil's mouth, two of their tongues were twisting and entangling into each other and Phil pulled off, causing Mark to shake his head.

"Sorry, doll, you pay the price," and as Mark brought the bottle towards Phil's mouth, letting the acidic liquid fall into Phil's mouth and just as he was about to choke on the bottle, Mark leaned down and kissed Phil again, causing both of their tongues to twist into each other once more and Phil didn't pull away this time. He wouldn't dare upset him. Mark pulled away, cupping Phil's cheek. "What did you learn today, doll?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Phil slurred and that caused Mark to dig a sharp knife into Phil's stomach…

"Wrong answer! What did you learn today, doll?"

"I…I…Matt…doesn't love me."

"Say it again."

"Matt doesn't love me!"

Mark dug out the sharp stick away from Phil's stomach and the blood seeped out sleekly while Mark sniggered before digging a finger in there and licking it off. Phil's body was now cherry red and his body was blazing and Phil could barely catch a breath as his eyes widened, solid eyes in pain and agony and twisted and his stomach ached and he just wanted it all to go away.

"Someone has an allergy to alcohol."

"Please…Mark…" he stammered. "Please…don't… Mark, don't…"

Mark crushed his lips down to Phil's, both of them panting but Mark doesn't want to stop and as Mark pulls off of Phil's blazing hot skin, he smirks but Phil can't handle it as he shakes his head and tears start to spill from his eyes. "Mark…Mark…stop it…please…"

When Mark cupped Phil's cheeks again, this time, he didn't lean down for a kiss and he watched as Phil tried to steady his breathing. "Happy birthday, doll…"

Phil looked down, shaking and shivering. No words coming out of his mouth as Mark pulled Phil's clothing and as he took the blood from Phil's stomach and used it as a lube, stroking it around Phil's body as a painting and Phil's face was looking down but trying to tear his face away from his bloodied body and it wasn't look before Mark descended his own clothing and without warning, pushed himself inside of Phil. Phil's breath almost stopped but he didn't dare say a word. After a few thrusts, Mark had already come inside of Phil and that caused only a grunt to escape his lips even though he was trying to shuffle out his own screams and as Phil came only moments after Mark, causing hot fluid and blood to be all over the place.

Phil's breath was shallow and Mark noticed that as he ran his fingers down Phil's face, causing Phil's tears to spill once more. "Doll, doll, doll," Mark shakes his head as if he's doing something wrong.

"Don't kill me…"

"I won't kill you, doll. I care."

"You don't care! LEAVE ME ALONE! You forced me to do this! You-you-"Phil's screams turned into soft shallow breaths as Mark pulled out the bottle of alcohol and Phil shook his head. "I'm sorry…I didn't mean-"

"Don't you dare say that I don't care, doll. I'm doing this because you need to know your mark."

Phil nodded his head, laying his head on top of his shoulder.

"Goodnight, doll…"

Mark descended from the room, leaving nothing with Phil but the rusted chains of his shackles and the still sticky tearstains of his face.

* * *

**This was sort of weird but I like it. Sorta. Review??**

**X Sam.**


	8. Play Things Part 2 MikePhil

**I haven't updated on this for so long… Also, Allison is an OC. XD. Obviously.**

_**XxDark-SakuraxX**_**—I actually made that up. It's not a song! XD. Though that definitely made my day.**

* * *

**Title: Play Things – Part 2  
Summary: Mike asks for John (Hennigan) for help. Problem is he doesn't know that this can turn deadly.  
For: **_**gameboycjp10**_**.**

* * *

—_Mike "The Miz" Mizanin_

"I swear, John, I'm scared."

John Hennigan and I were talking and I just seemingly brought up the subject about me being about to see Phil, after he had died and the fact that I only saw vengeful ghosts was nagging me deeply as my body shook and I thought of Phil's soft hazel eyes, those never-lying eyes, that soft pink lush lips that made me want to kiss him.

"_Don't be. Maybe Phil isn't dead."_

"Why would Phil lie about dying? I'm the only one who could see him! I'm sure!"

"_Allison's talking. Hold up."_

"Who's Allison?"

"_A little girl I found today. She's a ghost. Damn, she has brown hair, pale skin, blue eyes…she's wearing a yellow Chicago dress. She tells me that she's Phil's daughter."_

My heart pounded badly into my body.

Pain sinking into every particle of my skin. Agony and desolation burning into every fiber and molecule of my being.

"Phil has a daughter?"

"_Apparently, she died shortly before Phil did."_

"You're saying that Phil lied about Cena killing him…?"

"_Allison was there. She's eight so she doesn't know anything about suicide or homicide yet. She said that 'daddy was telling the scary blue eyed guy to kill him' and was in tears. Phil wanted to die after Allison did and Phil begged Cena to kill him. Apparently, Cena did kill him because he felt sorry for him and he knew that he didn't deserve the pain."_

"Okay, so Phil died because he was sad after Allison's dead. But why would Phil get back with me—?"

That moment, I felt something hold onto my shoulder and push me to the wall of my hotel room, the phone in my hands falling and I felt lips crush against me, Phil's, and I stared into those eyes, those darkened eyes as I felt my heart pound hard into my chest, harder and harder, louder and louder, and I could almost feel it burst as he pulled his lips away from me, staring at me, breathing rapidly. His eyes dangerous.

"I heard everything." His voice was thick and there was a hint of danger in his voice.

"Phil…"

Phil slapped me across the face, causing me to gasp as he cupped my cheek and pressed his body against mine.

"You little bitch. You really thought I'd get back with you so easily? The only reason I did that was so you can feel the pain of being left for someone like Cena. The only reason Cena was in on it was because he understood how I felt when he realized that you loved me…so you love me, don't you, Mike?"

I stared at him and I couldn't deny it. I was deeply in love with him and that hurt all the more that he would use it against me.

He slapped me. Harder this time. I could feel my cheek redden with pain and agony and desolation.

"Tell me you hate me."

"I-I can't." I whispered.

He grabbed onto the collar of my shirt, ripping the shirt into pieces, and this caused me to gasp once more as he pressed against me. "You don't have to do this…Phil, please…"

"You know about Allison. No one knows about Allison." He cupped my cheek once more and I felt the sting of the cheek worsen as his hand cupped my cheek harder as he kissed me, soft and quick. "She was supposed to be you and mine's child. 'Our perfect life'. But life doesn't come easy, does it? I mean, I even got a girl that looked like you…perfect, perfect Allison…and—she died and I have nothing and you come to me, after Cena dies, and you tell me you care and—damn, I just don't wanna go through all that pain again, of watching her die like that."

"Phil…" sympathy. I was filled with sympathy and empathy. My heart was exploding was pain and agony and desolation and torture and I just wanted this all to end. For me to crawl under the covers of my bed and just lie there until all this torture faded into nothing, oblivion. Just nothing.

He pushed himself against me, sucking onto my neck and nibbling roughly and I just wanted to know what was going on as I held onto his waist and he bit my neck, hard and rough.

"You don't deserve to live." His hand went to his pants as he nibbled onto my ear and he pulled out the sharp knife out of his jeans, letting my heart explode into pieces. "Not if she didn't deserve to live!"

"Phil, please, calm down! It's not my fault—"

"Same eyes, same hair, same skin—I can't even look at you without thinking of her, you whore! You left me and you didn't even care about how I felt! DAMMIT! Now, I don't care about how you feel…"

"This is different…"

Phil pushed the tip of the knife into my stomach and searing pain burned into me as I stared into those eyes, those soft baby blue eyes that I once believed would never dare to hurt me but now…

Tears bubbled into my eyes.

"Phil…please, don't do this…I love you…"

"I have to do this for her," Phil snapped, pulling the knife out and staring at me. "I'd give you the same pain she had when that bastard sliced her up into pieces! She was so young…my little Allison…"

Phil pushed the knife to my shoulder, letting the tip glide from my shoulder down to my stomach and this made me see the hot sticky blood drape from me, the horror of seeing so much dark crimson blood fall…

"Daddy, don't!"

Phil twisted his head to look at Allison, his little girl, with those soft baby blue eyes glittering and I was astounded. She really did look like me and Phil wasn't exaggerating but I still couldn't understand why he had to do this.

"You don't understand, Allison! He's a bad, bad man!"

John Hennigan stood next to her, holding onto her shoulder and we were linked. In this damned ghost realm, the only reason that I could've seen Allison would be because Allison was attached to Phil, which made their souls connected, and this was also the reason that John could see Phil.

"Daddy, don't! Please, Daddy!"

John held Allison in place as she bounced up and down with those eyes now shedding hot liquid down her cheeks.

"Phil, look at her, look at Mike, would you really do this…?" John whispered. "Phil, look at him, he doesn't deserve this…"

Phil's eyes were staring at me, examining me, looking at every part of me. "I look at him but I only see her. And he deserves to feel the same pain as Allison. It's not fair that she gets to get hurt but he's all fine and dandy!" And that was all it took for him to drive that knife into my heart…

And then

_Darkness_.

* * *

—_John Hennigan "Morrison"_

I watched as Mike just dropped dead, his body frail, weak, and no words were spoken as Phil let a smirk burn against his face. He looked at the scared Allison that I had just realized I was still holding back.

"_Allison, Allison, Allison, say goodnight to Mike. He's gone to sleep…"_

* * *

**I think that was okay.**

**Title: Scene for Dummies  
Summary: Mike Mizanin swore he'd never fall in love once in his life. Phil Brooks wants to make sure he didn't mean that…Punk/Miz.  
For: **_**InYourHonor**_**. **

**Thank you, sweethearts! Keep the requests coming!**

**X Sam. **


	9. Scene for Dummies MikePhil

**And...long time? XD. I know. These are one-shots. They're not supposed to count as a story. XP.**

* * *

**Title: Scene for Dummies  
Summary: Mike Mizanin swore he'd never fall in love once in his life. Phil Brooks wants to make sure he didn't mean that…Punk/Miz.  
For: **_**InYourHonor**_**. **

* * *

_I swore I'd never fall in love._

* * *

He swears he'd never fall in love.

He means it.

He's had sex with tons of men and woman, both, but he'd never fallen in love with any of them. He's never had a crush and he wants to keep it that way because love hurts and he doesn't want to fall in love because it'll break his heart. It'll break him.

He has no time for broken hearts.

* * *

_In front of the door…  
You stand and I said I'd never fall in love._

* * *

Mike's gone on ton of dates.

John Cena. John Morrison. Matt Hardy. Jeff Hardy. Randy Orton. Ted DiBiase. Cody Rhodes. Name them.

But there's just this one time…

Phil stands in front of the doorway with him, those beautiful hazel eyes shining in the darkness of the hallway and he leans down to kiss Mike's lips and Mike just stares at him. "Go away, Phil."

He's not gonna stand here and fall for him.

He's not gonna stand here and let Phil do this to him and then break his heart into pieces.

Never.

"But-"

Before Phil can finish the sentence, Mike walks inside his room and just before Mike can slam the door shut, Phil holds onto the door so that Mike couldn't possibly shut the door. "Mike, I don't understand. I didn't do anything."

Mike just stares at Phil. "I know…it's just that-"

Phil walks towards him, and kisses him, one of their ten million kisses during the date, but there's something deeper, a deeper meaning, passion, in their kiss and Mike pulls back before Phil can continue the kiss.

He doesn't want to admit that it's the best kiss he'd ever had in his life.

"Get out. Now."

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to fall in love."

"You're joking."

Just before Phil can get an answer, Mike shoves him away and slams the door shut.

That's the last time Mike ever talked to Phil Brooks.

* * *

_I'd never fall in love…_

* * *

Mike just walks inside of the door of his hotel room.

It's been two months exactly today since he'd dumped Phil outside and he'd never gone on a date afterwards.

He stops when he sees a teddy bear standing there.

A heart in his hands.

Blood trickling.

The glassy eyes black and dead.

The fur stained with blood.

The supposed to be smile is there as a frown.

Mike stands there frozen before he walks towards the teddy bear, taking the impossible but it is white card out that's pledged between his armpits and he opens it, his heart beating with every step.

_I invite you to come with me to a beautiful, bloody masquerade. You will come. And… Fall in love or be a dummy._

He flips the card over and over.

Until he notices that at the edge of a card. It's been marked. **PHIL BROOKS**. He drops the card from his hands.

It's the last time he'll ever look at masquerades the same way.

* * *

_I'd never fall in love…_

* * *

The next day, it's a doll.

It's a beautiful, tiny Cupid doll tucked away underneath his bag and as he pulls it out in the middle of his date, John Morrison laughs before going back to kiss Mike's neck, teasing him about being a child but as John holds onto the doll, he sees the alive eyes and he throws it across the room.

In the middle of the sex, John's body just stops moving.

Mike pushes him off.

He's stiff.

A doll.

A dummy.

Mike's eyes drift back towards the Cupid-like doll and he reaches out in the tiny cloth to take out a white card.

_Our little masquerade shall be tonight. Come. Now. _An address was placed this time_. And… Fall in love or be a dummy._

Mike doesn't look at Cupid the same way again.

* * *

_I'd never fall in love…_

* * *

He steps towards the address.

The place is dark, dingy, and murky.

He stops in the middle where of too many glass windows and he looks outside to see a beautiful, beautiful garden and frozen men stand there and the reality of those dummies strike Mike's heart.

"Hello, precious…"

Mike's eyes drift towards Phil who stands there. "Still?" Phil asks him. "Still refuse to fall in love?"

Phil holds onto Mike's wrist. "Come on. Let's dance."

Mike's never felt so afraid in his life but he holds onto Phil and dances with him anyways and he's never been such a good dancer and the feeling that Phil's giving him right now, the feeling of being alive, even if Phil's eyes are dead and just as he dances around, Phil runs his hand down Mike's shirt, pulling it off, and planting kisses all over Mike's neck to his chest, caressing his back as his dance turns slower and slower, moving around, talented. Mike is pressed against a wall beside another room. The door of the other room is slightly open and Mike can see a blue floor there.

"No masks, Mike? This is a masquerade after all."

Mike looks up at Phil whose smirking at him. "You're not wearing a mask either, Phil…"

"I'm CM Punk, no?"

"I'm the Miz."

"Okay, Miz, so that's the name of your mask? Why do you hide behind that mask? Don't want to be weak? Don't wanna fall in love?"

Mike stares at him. The reality of those words…they're so real…

Mike slowly nods his head and just as he'd done that, Phil kisses Mike's nose. "Oh, I'll fix that."

"Phil-"

Mike is thrown towards the wall and Phil slowly opens the door of the room beside them before he shoves Mike inside, making him see the snowy scene of this room and Mike puts his arms around his body, feeling very cold all of a sudden, a rush of frozenness, and Mike looks back. "It's so damn cold."

"Thirty minutes."

"W-w—what?" he's stuttering because of the coldness of the damn room.

"Thirty minutes."

Phil presses Mike to the wall and the flesh is burning with ice. "Tell me you love me, Mike. Tell me that you're in love with me."

Mike stares at him and shakes his head.

"SAY IT OR…" Phil smirks now. "Or be a part of that scene for dummies."

"I…"

"Say it."

"I…"

"Say it."

"I…l-l-"Mike couldn't. "I…" tears are freezing fast as they fall from his eyes.

"Come on, precious."

"I…I…love…I-I-I-"it's been far too long before Mike brings Phil to him, feeling the heat of Phil's body. "I…I…l-l-love…"

He can't say it.

* * *

_I  
Don't  
Wanna  
Fall  
In  
Love_

* * *

Mike wakes up in another room.

He finds himself looking around. _He didn't kill me. He didn't make me into one of his dummies…but…?_ Mike twists his head to look at Phil who's standing there, running his hand down Mike's arm.

"Phil." Mike finally manages to breathe out.

Mike looks at his clothing. Scene clothing and then he looks back at Phil. "I love you, Phil." Mike is finally able to say it but he doesn't know if he means it or not. "Please, don't kill me. Please."

"Sorry, doll. Too late."

"No! Please! Don't…"

Phil runs his hand through Mike's face. "I'm related to the Devil and he tells me to make you into his personal dummy…but…"

"But?"

"You're not his. You're mine."

"You killed…"

Phil's eyes darken. "You. Are. Mine."

Mike sobs into his chest and as he stares up at Phil, he knows, truly, his heart knows, that despite all that…

_Mike's actually in love with Phil._

"There, there, love, it's gonna be alright…"

"No! You killed the Devil! Do you know what that means?"

"It means that I get to the Devil."

"How do you do that…?"

"He trusts. I don't."

"Do you trust me?" Mike's eyes glisten as the tears continue to fall. "Do you trust me, Phil?"

"Yes, doll…all mine. I trust you."

Mike kisses him and he watches as that simple kiss turns into a kiss of passion and fiery and Mike doesn't care anymore if Phil's the Devil or if Phil's an angel and Phil pulls his hair away, kissing Mike back.

'_Mine. __**Forever**__.'_

* * *

**That was…the weirdest. If you don't like this, Jay, sweetay, then just tell me. I'll make you another one. **

**NEXT:**

**Title: Stitched Hearts  
Summary: Phil Brooks babysits an adopted child…a strange caller shocks him into the reality. Closed lights. No words. Pain… Mark/Phil.  
For: **_**browngirlwrites**_**. **

**Then Jay again! (Planning ahead again) & it shall be… **

**Title: Buried by a Lie  
Summary: it's supposed to be a tape. It's not supposed to be deadly. But every time he hears it, he knows…he knows… he doesn't have long to live. And his lover has to keep him in place… and it's all because of a lie. Christian/Jericho.  
For: **_**InYourHonor**_**. **

**Request all you wants, peoples!**

**X Sam.**


	10. Stitched Hearts MarkPhil

**This will be the first appearance of one of my soon to be eating up my fics OC, Charlie. I know. You know how long it took me to finally agree on a name? Oh, and this is more darkness than horror but…eh… **

* * *

**Title: Stitched Hearts  
Summary: Phil Brooks babysits an adopted child…a strange caller shocks him into the reality. Closed lights. No words. Pain… Mark/Phil.  
For: **_**browngirlwrites**_**. **

* * *

Phil Brooks had been with Matt Hardy for too long.

It was three years today.

Matt had left him, told him that he couldn't handle this much pressure, told him that he was confused and left Phil heartbroken and to top it off, they had adopted a son named Charlie and usually, Matt wouldn't even let Phil look at Charlie but today, they had let him babysit him for that night.

Charlie was around 4'8 and 12 years old. He didn't talk much but Phil finally noticed how much Charlie could pull off as Matt's son, the soft pale flesh that made his spiky black hair pop out, his eyes were a healthy brown shade and Phil just couldn't look at Charlie without remembering Matt, it was the way he looked at him…it was Matt's stare. Charlie didn't know how to stare like that before…but after spending so long…

Phil just wanted to cry his heart out when he looked at Charlie. Too much of Matt now. Just too much.

Phil watched as Charlie did his homework as he watched a movie he'd seen with Matt more than a dozen times but all of a sudden, the power had went out. "Oh damn," Phil cussed under his breath, pulling out a flashlight and looking around. "I'll go check the power surge."

Charlie followed him, pulling his sweater to cover his entire chest, and when Phil had walked through the hallway, he stopped when he heard his cell phone ring and he pulled it close to his ear, thinking it was Matt.

"Hello."

That was not Matt's voice. It was more devilish than Matt's voice.

"W-who's this?"

"Don't you know your ole' pal? The Undertaker?"

"I swear, I have no time for this. The power just went out—"

"I know."

Phil might've just stopped in his place. "You—?" he realized that the power surge was Mark's fault. "Why, Mark?"

"Mine. You are mine. Not his. You've never been his."

When Mark realized that Phil had meant Matt, his heart sank and he stared down at Charlie, suddenly afraid of what might happen to the young child, 'Mark…please…just make me understand-"

"You never should've loved him. I marked you as mine. You are mine."

"Mark! You're not making any sense! You-"

Phil banged his hand towards the wall, breathing quickly and he let olive eyes look around the dark room before he looked back to see that Charlie…

Wasn't there.

Dial tone.

Phil dropped his cell phone and looked around for Charlie, trying to find the young child through the power surge, the only thing that had bonded him and Matt now. Matt had burned his wedding ring, along with Phil's, and they both agreed never to see each other again but—

Charlie was the only thing left that bonded them.

"Mark! Please! I'd do anything! Just please…bring Charlie back…he's just a little kid! He doesn't know any better…Mark! MARK!"

Phil was screaming so loud his throat went dry and he could almost feel as if he was going to drop dead but he didn't. He just stood there, with his heart racing and sweat breaking out and just too many thoughts bouncing in his head.

Phil turned around and was met by a dark eyed man. Mark.

"Mark…Charlie…"

Mark's arms wrapped around Phil's waist, 'he'll be alright, doll…" Mark kissed Phil's earlobe. "He'll be alright…if you give yourself to me."

"Mark…"

"Don't make me kill them. Don't make me destroy them both. Cooperate, doll. You'll realize that you love me soon enough."

"M-Mark…Charlie…where's Charlie?"

Mark leaned down to kiss Phil, covering his mouth with his, not caring about Phil's want and need for Charlie and after a moment, he broke apart because Phil's body was shaking too much and the kiss had turned out shaky and meaningless.

"Doll…cooperate."

"I don't wanna fucking cooperate! I want my baby! I want Charlie! I want my son! I want me and Matt's son." Phil snapped, his eyes glowing with fury and horror.

"You shouldn't have gone there, doll."

Just before Phil can respond, Mark had knocked him down and sat on top of Phil's body, tearing off his clothing, hearing Phil's protests and pleads of horror and it didn't take long for blood and cum to cover the floor…

"_Little doll, our hearts are stitched. Little child, have you been ditched? Little flower, your heart's enriched. Little child, don't you twitch. Little bleeding doll, our heart have been switched."_

* * *

Phil woke up to the sound of beeping monitors.

He saw Matt's concerned face as Matt leaned down towards Phil and cupped his cheek, kissing his nose, and breathing softly. "Phil…damn, what happened?"

Phil groaned and held his head, unable to tell Matt the horror he'd seen, and unable to describe it. "Charlie…where's Charlie?" he barely choked out the words.

"He's outside. He's asleep. It's 2 o'clock, Phil."

"Charlie's not asleep…he's awake…I swear! He's not dead! I-"

Matt cupped Phil's cheek harder, kissing Phil's lips lightly and Phil stared back at him. "C-Charlie…he's not safe…he-he-"

"Phil, you should rest a while."

All Phil could remember was those dark eyes, staring at him, inspecting him, wanting him, needing him, loving him, how Mark had claimed Phil's body as his own possession…the feeling that Mark had given Phil…

"_Little doll, our hearts are stitched. Little child, have you been ditched? Little flower, your heart's enriched. Little child, don't you twitch. Little bleeding doll, our heart have been switched."_

Was it wrong to _love_ it?

* * *

**I couldn't resist. Anyways, next one up is for Jay! X3. Enjoy, Jay…there'll be a lot of Jay/Jericho love. X3.**

**X Sam.**


	11. Buried By a Lie ChrisJay

**I'm tired and sleepy but I don't wanna sleep so if this comes out slightly sloppy, don't blame me.**

* * *

**Title: Buried by a Lie  
Summary: it's supposed to be a tape. It's not supposed to be deadly. But every time he hears it, he knows…he knows… he doesn't have long to live. And his lover has to keep him in place… and it's all because of a lie. Christian/Jericho.  
For: **_**InYourHonor**_**.**

* * *

'_All because of a lie. Do you really think he loves you? Do you really think he'd care about you? When you're dying, he's gonna be laughing…and you're gonna be dead gone soon. Do you really think he loves you? Do you really think he wants you? Needs you? Do you? Don't look around. You'll be faced with your battered heart. Don't look around. I'll be there. To take you. Just because of a lie, you're gonna fucking die. Buried by a lie.'_

* * *

It's supposed to be a tape. It's not supposed to be deadly. But every time he hears it, he knows…he knows… he doesn't have long to live. And his lover has to keep him in place… and it's all because of a lie.

Jay's spread on the bed, shaking and his tears are drying now and just as he's about to take out the tape he'd found in the mailbox earlier, the sound of footsteps, his fiancée, Chris's, echo and Jay watches as Chris opens the door and this makes Jay start crying again, hard tears of pain and desolation.

"Jay?"

Chris just stares at him.

"Jason, talk to me."

Jay doesn't say a word as he holds onto the radio in front of him and the tape just falls from the floor. "It's all a lie, Chris. You said you wanted me. You said you needed me. It's all a lie. You said you loved me."

"What? Jay, your head must be screwed on wrong! You know you're my one and only."

"The tape knows."

Chris stares at him for a while before sitting down beside him and he kisses Jay, a kiss entangled with love and passion and affection but Jay still twists his head away later on and lets out a heavyhearted sigh. "You don't even love me. What's the point?"

"It's just a tape."

"Lies."

"Jay, 'Chris's voice is soft as he runs his hand through Jay's hair. "You know I'd do anything for you, right? You know that I love you? I love every inch of your body. I want every inch of your body. I need you. Jay…I proposed. Don't you remember?"

Jay huffs and pulls him away. "The tape doesn't lie, Chris."

"What did the tape say?"

"That you don't love me…that-that I'm gonna die…I'm gonna die, Chrissy…I can feel it. Its coming for me. Its gonna kill me…Chris…"

He laughs. He laughs a bubbly laughter of mockery.

'_When you're dying, he's gonna be laughing…'_

Jay's eyes bubble with tears as he puts his head into his hands and starts sobbing while Chris tries to hold onto Jay's shoulder but Jay smacks him away, 'go away, Chris! You don't love me! Just go! Have a beer or something! Just. Get. Outta. This. Room."

* * *

"I just don't get it." Chris says to Phil, sipping his still first cup of beer, much to Phil's dismay, 'he claims that I don't love him just because of a tape. And he thinks he's gonna die."

Phil just stares at him, taking the cup of alcohol from Chris's hands and dumping the liquid into the shrub next to him before turning towards Chris, 'he's just emotionally unstable. I mean, you know what happened when Jeff proposed."

"Don't make me remember! You hated all that bad luck shit but you were all on it on your wedding day. 'No, there can't be thirteen bouquets! It's bad luck!' Phil seriously."

Phil rolls his eyes and looks down at his wedding ring, the stone shining beautifully and Phil's heart flutters, 'but it was worth it. After the wedding, Jeff gave me his virginity. It was amazing. When Jay gets married, you know he's gonna be less tense about these things. Just give him some space. But not too much. Then he thinks you're cheating."

"Oh, it's late, 'Chris tells Phil, hugging his friend loosely, 'see you tomorrow!"

"You too!"

* * *

Jay shakes in his place.

"It's coming for me!"

He's turned off all electronics, so now; it's just him in the darkness, hiding under covers, with too many tears…

"Chris, s-s-save me…come save me…CHRIS! I'm sorry! Just-just please…"

When he hears the sound of footsteps outside, Jay lets out a horrified scream, 'CHRIS! Please! It's coming for me! I'm gonna-I'm gonna die…a-and-Chrissy…baby…please…"

Sobs wreck from his body.

"P-please…"

* * *

Chris runs towards Jay with a bunch of red roses in his hands, walking towards Jay and his's room and just opening it, peeking only to see Jay sleeping, _3:00 AM _flashes on the clock. _No wonder he's sleeping_ then he walks towards him. "Jay, baby…" he kisses Jay's cheek and puts the roses on the table, sitting down next to him, wrapping his arms around Jay's body. "Jay, you know, I'm sorry for being such an ass earlier…I love you. I want to marry you. Our wedding is going to be perfect. You're going to be so beautiful…" Chris kisses the back of Jay's neck.

"Jay, baby? Are you still angry at me?"

Chris flips Jay over and his face pales when he realizes that Jay… "y-you're dead," Chris sobs, and puts his head onto Jay's chest, 'I am such an ass… I swear…b-b-baby…"

That night, Chris takes the knife and plunges it into his heart.

"I didn't think I had one…"

* * *

Phil Brooks steps from the shower, naked, days after Chris and Jay's funerals and he wears a ragged towel and he looks down at a black object, a tape of the Lakers' game and he shakes his head, putting it into the radio and listening.

'_All because of a lie. Do you really think he loves you? Do you really think he'd care about you? When you're dying, he's gonna be laughing…and you're gonna be dead gone soon. Do you really think he loves you? Do you really think he wants you? Needs you? Do you? Don't look around. You'll be faced with your battered heart. Don't look around. I'll be there. To take you. Just because of a lie, you're gonna fucking die. Buried by a lie.'_

* * *

**Sorry, Jay, I totally forgot you like dom!Phil. XD. I seriously realized this after I had written it out. I even added a hint of Chris/Punk for you. Very, very _light _hint. XP.  
**

**Next one is…**

**Title: Carry You Home  
Summary: Mark finds a scared out of his mind Phil on the floor and he carries him to his house…still, Phil is scared…and Mark wants to know why. Is there something that Phil knows that Mark doesn't? Mark/Phil.  
For: **_**xxAREESHAxx**_

**Next to that will be…**

**Title: It's Torn  
Summary: Chris is worried…Phil shouldn't be acting this way…but he's convinced. "The perfect sky is torn." Punk/Jericho.  
For: **_**browngirlwrites**_**.**

**Now, review, my lovelies! X3.**

**X Sam.**


	12. Carry You Home MarkPhil

**Again, I wrote this right after I had written '**_**Buried by a Lie'**_**. So tired & sleepy & powered by Pepsi.**

* * *

**Title: Carry You Home  
Summary: Mark finds a scared out of his mind Phil on the floor and he carries him to his house…still, Phil is scared…and Mark wants to know why.  
For: **_**xxAREESHAxx**_

* * *

Mark Calaway never thought he'd ever find something like this.

He had just been walking home, typically, but then he heard it. A some sort of whimper. Very soft and very puppy-ish and when he'd heard it, he'd made his way to the source, which wasn't very far away, but near an alley, and he'd seen him. A sprayed out Phil, with his hand bruised and his head pressing against his arm, his eyes are shut tight and he refused to open them as his soft, inaudible whimpers fell from his mouth. There was a scar on his face, a scar that had a perfect diagonal line, starting from his forehead, right up to his nose.

He hadn't seen Phil Brooks in a year. But he never expected him to look this badly. Covered in blue and purple. His clothing was entirely made of black, no other color and Mark made his way towards him, holding onto Phil's waist, ready to carry him and at the feel of movement, Phil screamed out. "No! Don't take me! No! No! No!"

Mark had Phil close to him, and hopped off towards his house.

Phil's eyes were bubbling with unshed tears and he buried his head into Mark's chest. "No where…I can't—escape…no…"

When he'd gotten home, he glided Phil's body towards the couch and had opened the television to one of the MBC's before he walked off to prepare some tea for the distressed used to be superstar and as Mark prepared the mug of tea, he couldn't help but wonder what Phil's dismay was…abuse? It seemed like it, from the marks on his skin. Battered him completely.

He took the mug towards Phil and froze when he saw that Phil wasn't even paying attention to the TV. His eyes were fixated on the clock, counting every second that passed, biting onto his lower lip and Mark placed the tray down, nudging Phil but Phil's eyes didn't move away from the clock.

"Trapped, 'Phil whimpered. "I'm trapped."

"Phil, what are you 'trapped' from?" Mark inquired and Phil shifted from the clock, at the sight of the inviting mug, he took it and started sipping, feeling the hot acid burn his throat but he didn't care.

"Tell me." His voice had an edge.

Phil's entire body was shaking. "The D A R K." His voice was broken, as if he had just spilled out a secret he wasn't supposed to say.

"The…Dark?" the Deadman raised an eyebrow and at the mention of those two words, Phil had dropped the mug from his hands, causing it to crash, staring at Mark with a too pale face.

"Don't say it. D-don't say it."

Mark shook his head. He found this so very amusing. "The Dark…so what's it going to do to you? Aren't you a little too old to be afraid of sleeping with the lights out."

"No! The lights shouldn't be off…then…it will get me… I can feel it…it wants me. It wants me to die." Phil's eyes widened at the last part, just staring at the ceiling then back at the clock, with puffy, swollen red eyes, he stared. "It's been four months since it started to follow me…and I…I know that tonight…it'll come for me."

"Yeah, sure," Mark rolled his eyes.

Phil didn't say anything anymore. "I'm gonna go clean up this mess, 'Mark huffed, walking towards the kitchen while Phil stared, shocked. He was the Deadman. He should know about the Dark, the Dark…oh, just the memory of that thing made Phil shiver, it will get him…it was scary. It was a shadow. It…it…was following him.

It was _Phil's_ shadow.

Phil was about to nod off to sleep but then, he heard the sound of the phone ringing and Phil was too tired and too in his sleep to answer it and Mark, at the sound of the phone ringing, had held onto the phone and brought it to his ear.

"It's Dr. Reed."

"I don't have a fucking Doctor." Mark growled.

"I'm calling Phil."

"And I presume you're 'the Dark'. Scary. You should try a scarier voice if you wanna scare the hell out of Phil."

"Don't speak of the D A R K like that!"

Mark slapped his hand on his forehead and he was sure he was going to explode if someone mentioned this again. "Okay…why'd you call? Actually, how'd you get this number?"

"I have a chip in Phil's hair. I need to know where he is. It's not safe."

"Why do you care?"

"I'm his uncle."

"Touché." Mark digested the information, looking back at Phil who was tossing and turning into his sleep. "Can I hang up now? It's nothing important obviously."

"Look at Phil's neck. You'll believe me then."

Mark sighed before slamming the phone shut and just because of curiousity, Mark leaned towards Phil, peering to look at his neck and his heart was about to stop at the familiar _daevas'_ sign on Phil's neck, the 'Z' that was supposed to only represent one thing: _shadows of darkness_.

Though they weren't supposed to be real. Daevas were fictional, no?

But the mark…it was so very real…

Mark knew what he had to do now. He really did have to get Phil out of here. It wasn't safe. Mark carried Phil's body and he felt Phil bury his head into Mark's chest, whimpering and clutching and Mark ran. Mark ran as fast as he could've—the Dark truly was coming. Gonna collapse them both.

Mark just ran.

He could hear the shadows talking.

'_Mark, let go of him. He shall be a great addition to us. He's made of darkness, no? I'm his shadow after all.'_

Mark froze into position as Phil opened his eyes at the sound of that voice that he pretended wasn't real and as Phil heard that voice, he clutched onto Mark's chest tighter. "They-they're gonna…"

'_We'll give you 5 seconds.'_

"Mark…"

'_4'._

"Phil…"

'_3'._

Both of their eyes locked.

'_2'._

And before they could run away…

'_1'._

The shadows pounced on them…

* * *

Jeff was running away from the daevas that were following him and he stopped in his position, his heart pounding as he looked back at those red eyes that stared so darkly and the glow of red diminished, leaving dark human eyes as two bodies approached. Arms linked, with soft snow flesh, they stared.

"Oh, Jeff, don't run. It's gonna be okay…"

"_Mark, Phil, no!"_

The daevas pounced…

* * *

**Yes…so next one up for **_**browngirlwrites**_**. Fanks for the reviews, darlings. Hopefully, I did not disappoint.**

**X Sam.**


	13. It’s Torn ChrisPhil

**I'm back with another one. Here's my lame excuse, 'cause you didn't get tired of my excuses. It's 7:30 in the morning. _browngirlwrites_, part two? What do you want to know? Something specific? I kinda need to know. XD.  
**

* * *

**Title: It's Torn  
Summary: Chris is worried…Phil shouldn't be acting this way…but he's convinced. "The perfect sky is torn." Punk/Jericho.  
For: **_**browngirlwrites**_**.**

* * *

"_The perfect sky is torn."_

About two months ago, Chris and Phil had moved in with each other, the best of friends, even had a bracelet that said so and backstage gossip made them feel embarrassed before they walked into the ring but even their characters in the ring suggested that there was something with them, their struggle for dominance—but that wasn't the odd part. The odd part for Chris was waking up in 10 in the morning and find the spot where Phil used to sleep in completely empty and finding Phil sitting by the window, staring out in the sky and Chris wanted—_wants_—to know why Phil's acting this way.

It gets odder every day and Phil refuses to move away from the window, his chin on his knees and his eyes staring at the mass of blueness outside and as much as Chris tries to pull Phil away, Phil will always react the same way, just push him back and then return to his normal position. He's so stubborn it's unbelievable and half the time he doesn't eat. It's almost as if he's slowly killing himself.

He wakes up and tosses around and as usual, Phil's not even in the bed and Chris looks by the window, where Phil's head rests on his knees, tired and pale, and Chris is somewhat relieved because Phil has been lacking sleep and he sits beside him, finally looking outside the window to see—

_Nothing_.

Phil's been staring at an endless stream of _nothing_.

Chris knows that he can't get Phil to go to a Doctor so he calls for a Doctor instead, and sits down besides Phil, twirling a strand of hair of Phil's, feeling the still silky jet black hair between his fingers and in twenty six minutes, exactly, Chris hears the doorbell ring and he walks towards it, guiding the Doctor and explaining the insanity that had taken over Phil. By the time the Doctor and Chris had reached Phil, Chris reluctantly shakes Phil's shoulder, causing him to snap away. "Huh?" Phil's voice is cracked.

The Doctor leans towards Phil, flashing light into his eyes, and Phil grunts, twisting his head towards the sky. "Phil, I need to know if you're hallucinating."

Phil doesn't say anything.

"Phil!"

He doesn't even look back at them now and Chris becomes impatient, shoving Phil down the solid ground, staring deep into Phil's eyes, 'Phil, please, I'm just worried about you. You're acting insane."

"I'm not! _Chris_!" Phil exclaims but Chris shakes his head, running his finger down Phil's cheek, making Phil shiver.

"What are you staring at? Huh, Phil?! It's just the sky and it's just the world! You haven't moved from your place in days! You're sleepy, you're starving and you refuse to eat or sleep! What would you do?!"

Phil's eyes look at the sky, 'no…look…" Phil points at the sky. The one that has nothing wrong with it. _"The perfect sky is _**torn**_."_

"Nothing's wrong with the sky, Phil!"

Phil looks back, seeing the tear up in the sky, the blueness shattering and a blackness burning in the cover of the blueness and Phil shakes his head, 'it's torn. It's all torn…we're gonna die…we're all gonna die and there's nothing you can do about it!"

"Apparently, Phil's suffering a conditional called visual hallucinating. He's seeing things that aren't really there. You say that he hasn't been eating well or sleeping well? That's your causes right there." The Doctor explains. "We need to feed him and let him sleep properly to see if the symptoms still continue. And if the symptoms do continue…then I need to get a blood test and see if Phil is…a schizophrenic."

Chris looks at Phil, those crushed olive eyes that are now staring at him, Chris strokes his cheek, 'I'm sorry, Phil."

"And I'm sorry," Phil whispers, grabbing onto his straight friend's face and pressing his lips close to his and Chris stares momentarily as Phil kisses him, a passionate kiss that Chris doesn't return, Chris feels some moisture on his lips and when Chris pulls back, Phil whimpers. "Phil, this is wrong! You-you really might be crazy…"

Phil holds onto his face, 'please, Chris, I'm not crazy…I know it's real!"

_Is it wrong to like it when your best friend kisses you? _Chris does like it, he likes his lips and holds onto Phil, moving towards the door, ready to take him to the hospital for the blood test, and to get him some food along the way but there's something that's been nagging Chris… What if he starts wanting Phil? Why'd he have to be an idiot and push him away? Oh right. He has a wife…

He puts Phil down onto the bed, strapping him in place so he won't move and seeing the pain in Phil's eyes…it hurts too much to see. After three hours of tests, Phil, who had finally ate, is now sound asleep and just as the Doctor comes towards Chris, he thinks that Phil's not going to get rid of this hallucination unless they electrocute him, make him forget it all…

It's only a matter of time before Phil opens those tired olive eyes, in his hospital bed, unstrapped and Chris watches Phil as he shakes his head. "Why am I here?" Chris doesn't answer the question, as many times as Phil repeats it, as he walks off towards the car and when both of them are in the car, Chris's eyes scan the sky. That moisture that was on Phil's lips, it was bitter…it was a light liquid blue…Chris can remember and remembering Phil's lips have been chapped except of that, but Chris's lips absorb the moisture in quickly…and now, staring up at the sky, he sees that tear in the sky…and he knows that it's real.

* * *

**Okay, bottom line: Phil and Chris's house may have some weird things in it. Phil started acting weird after they moved in, no?…can you guess the rest? I didn't imply anything so I just want your imagination to run insane. I need more requests!**

**Title: Cara's Mascara  
Summary: Phil has an…ahem…condition. Phil/Jeff.  
For: **_**InYourHonor**_**.**

**X Sam.**


	14. Cara’s Mascara PhilJeff

**This is gonna be weird. I can feel it. Also, high school thing. Sorry. Bold is Phil's doctor speaking. Italics is Phil speaking. **

**Ohh…& this is sick. Seriously twisted. The thought itself is disgusting without going deep into it. I just did a shallow thing here. I didn't deepen it 'cause I don't want my readers to throw up. YOU HAZ BEEN WARNED.**

* * *

**Title: Cara's Mascara  
Summary: Phil has an…ahem…condition. Phil/Jeff.  
For: **_**InYourHonor**_**.**

* * *

He pushed the video tape inside of the receiver, watching as the fuzzy image appeared of a ten year old boy wearing an icy blue mask with tiny red lines all over it. A doctor sat on a chair on the opposite of the couch the boy had sat on, staring down at the ground.

**Phil?**

_I don't wanna. Just leave me alone._

**What's wrong with your face? **

_Everything._

**Let me see.**

_No, it's ugly. I don't want you to see!_

**Phil…just let me see…**

_No! I don't want you to see! Go away!_

**Be a good boy, Phil. Let me see.**

_I don't wanna! Don't you understand?! I JUST DON'T WANNA! _

**Philip. Brooks. Take it off, now.**

Jeff stood there and shook his head, pausing the tape. Not the Philip Brooks they had here, no? That was impossible. Phil's face was absolutely flawless, there was nothing wrong with it, pale and smooth…Jeff could still feel the flesh against his fingertips and when he turned around, he saw Phil standing there.

Phil shook his head. "Why?"

Jeff just stared at him as Phil continued to speak words that Jeff couldn't understand. "Why did you do this to me, Jeff?" his voice was cracked and broken. "How did you get that damn tape?"

"It's you, isn't it?"

Phil just moved back and held onto the black tape, throwing it on the floor and stomping on it until it was shattered to pieces. "I just knew you'd find it. Stupid me."

"Why the mask, Phil?"

"Because I was ugly. I still am as ugly as hell."

"What do you mean?" Jeff stood up, staring into Phil's face, smooth pale beautiful skin that popped against olive eyes…ugly? In some way, Jeff felt as if Phil was blind. Phil was gorgeous, not in the least bit ugly, much to Jeff's dismay. He had fallen for the ravenette a long time ago, somewhere along the lines of it all… "Phil."

Phil brushed a finger against his skin and Jeff could almost feel the smoothness of it all as Phil made his way towards the sink that was in the room and then he put his head there, washing off what seemed like make up, foundation, moisturizer…everything that anyone could ever think of and he turned around and Jeff gasped in shock. "Oh my God…" Jeff stared at Phil's face, unable to believe how someone's face could be so battered.

Phil had a scar diagonally across his face and at one side of his face, it was too red and swollen…Jeff could see that above Phil's scar was another one, glowing its purple-blue color…Jeff reached out to touch Phil's face and when he did, Phil winced in pain but didn't flinch away.

"Phil…how—?"

"And this is why I don't show this to anyone, 'his voice was thick and forceful, each word slipping off his lips as if it weighed a ton. "Because they'll all stare at me. They'll all look at me. I'm not pretty. I'm ugly."

Phil twisted his head away, holding his head in shamefulness and disgrace while Jeff held onto Phil's waist and pulled him to him. Phil sobbed. "I'm not pretty…" Phil continued to sob. "I want…I want…"

"What do you want?"

Phil ran his finger through Jeff's face. "This."

Jeff reached out to touch Phil's face again, stroking it, the skin was still so damn smooth but it was hard to look at. "How did this happen, Phil?"

"House burned down." Phil forced a sad smile to be on his face, 'my damn house burned down when I was ten. That's why I can never go out without my mask…then…it was make up…and now…you know…"

Jeff just stared at him as Phil pressed his lips towards his own. Jeff was shocked but kissed back anyways, holding onto Phil's waist. "Give me your face, Jeff."

"W-w-what?" Jeff's eyes widened.

"I want your face, Jeff." Phil stared at Jeff's eyes. "I have a daughter, Jeff. She stares at me like I'm some sort of monster…just do this for Cara. Please… do this for me…just…please…J-J-Jeff…"

Phil stared at him, as tears fell from those eyes. "Jeff…"

He didn't know what came over him. Maybe it was the perfection of those eyes that were in front of him, maybe it was the fact that the feeling he had for Phil was strong…he just didn't want him to suffer…

Jeff said yes.

Jeff looked at him, lifting Phil's chin and then kissed him, kissed him and showed every emotion in that kiss, love, passion, _fear_, but he didn't care. Jeff pulled off, 'just before you do this…" He brought out a knife towards Phil, letting him hold onto it, 'I love you."

* * *

_Lipstick._

_Eyeshadow._

Phil had finally come across the object he was looking for, _mascara_… he took the bottle of black liquid and swiped it across Jeff's face who held onto him. Phil's face was still pale, since the pigment of Phil's body is different than Jeff's but Jeff's face was now battered…and in some way, Jeff didn't care. He watched as Phil swiped the mascara on him and then Phil smiled.

He heard his daughter walk in the room. Cara. The girl was no more than eight year olds, holding onto a teddy bear that had a battered face, like Jeff's, a smile on her face. "Daddy, that's mine." She giggled.

Phil needed a reason to buy make up and he always told her that it was for her at some point. It would be.

Phil looked at the mascara, dabbing it across Jeff's cheek, making a tiny heart with the brush and the heart was slightly messy due to the brush. Phil giggled before putting the brush inside of the tube and Jeff wiped the mascara off his cheek. "I hate you, Phil."

"I love you, too, Jeff."

* * *

**Weird. Weird. Weird.  
**

**Next one is…**

**Title: Tiny Vessels  
Summary: It was rape. It was wrong. He just can't handle it. Dammit. Threesome of Theodore Long/Phil Brooks/Vince McMahon. Ends up as Ted DiBiase/Phil Brooks.  
For: mah fluffy, **_**xxAREESHAxx**_**, X3 & Ayesha, her fwiend. X3.**

**It had been written. Check next chappie. XD.  
**

**X Sam.**


	15. Tiny Vessels TeddyPhilVince PhilTed

**Had to get this done today, too. X3. Two updates in one day, you better be happy! X3. Okay, first time I write two old guys raping a tiny young guy. Also, Theodore is Theodore Long. Ted is Ted DiBiase.**

* * *

**Title: Tiny Vessels  
Summary: It was rape. It was wrong. He just can't handle it. Dammit. Threesome of Theodore Long/Phil Brooks/Vince McMahon. Ends up as Ted DiBiase/Phil Brooks.  
For: mah fluffy, **_**xxAREESHAxx**_**, X3 & Ayesha, her fwiend. X3.**

* * *

"Just because of that little bitch, I had to suffer! It isn't fucking fair! He's not supposed to have all that power, the cocky little thing. He doesn't care about anything! So damn selfish! It's all his fault…" Theodore huffed, dark eyes staring at Vince, who was taking it all in, a hint of empathy in those usually blank eyes. "Vince."

"I just think I may have a solution to our problem…"

* * *

Phil was tired. It was late at night and he just wanted to go to bed and just as he was about to step into bed, he heard a sound around him but he simply ignored it and sat down on the bed, feeling the fear explode when he realized that no one knew what hotel room he was in and he was alone right now.

His flashlight had no batteries.

He was alone.

His heart was about to stop when he heard a sound again and all of a sudden, he felt the sound of someone opening the door but the only one who had access was Vince and Ted DiBiase, his boyfriend of around a month now, and Phil sunk down onto the bed, shaking and shivering, not taking any chances and he realized that his feet were sticking out, showing his boots. He was shaking too hard to notice and when he felt something forcefully push him from underneath his bed, his heart pounded as little droplets of sweat fell from Phil's forehead.

"Why so scared, Phil? Were you as scared as I was when Mark did what he did?" Phil snapped his head towards the general manager of the Smackdown, Theodore Long, and his heart quickened harder, pounding in his eyes as he held back tears. The dark room causing him to fear even more as Theodore tore off Phil's shirt in one swift movement and even if he had always walked around in the ring without his tee, he felt exposed, and when he felt lips on his neck, he twisted his head to see Vince sucking on Phil's neck, exploring the salty skin that was smelled like his soap since he'd just gotten out of the shower and it even had that faint taste of the blueberry bar he'd used.

"P-p-please…" Phil begged, tears spluttering out of his eyes.

Theodore stood up, unzipping his pants, letting it all fall to the ground and Phil's eyes widened and his heart was about to stop as Theodore tore off his boxers as well. Phil just wanted it to be over as Theodore stuffed his cock into Phil's mouth, causing him to feel like choking. "Suck, bitch."

Phil stared up at him and he felt Vince smack the back of Phil's neck so Phil started sucking the organ, feeling tiny tears pool up in his eyes but they didn't fall. No, he'd never let them fall. He'd never give him the satisfaction.

Vince continued on biting every piece of flesh he could've of Phil's while Vince took off his own clothes and Phil can see that, from the mirror, his eyes bubbling with tears as Theodore moaned. "Take all of me in, bitch."

Phil took all of Theodore's length in his mouth and it hit the back of his throat and when he felt Vince smack the back of his head, he went back to sucking, soft and slow. It wasn't long before Vince tore off Phil's trunks, making him yelp in horror and that was when he felt completely and utterly exposed. He felt as if he had nothing to hide. All of his secrets painted on his chest but he still went back to sucking until Theodore came into Phil's mouth and Phil was so damn tired as Vince smacked the back of his neck again, causing the younger man to swallow the hot fluid.

"P-p-please…I'm tired…just please…"

Phil's tears were still pooling and collecting in his eyes but not falling and he sniffed a few times to prevent mucus from falling off his nose.

"Please…p-please…just stop-"

Theodore held onto Phil's waist while Vince smirked and pushed himself inside of Phil and Phil screamed at the pain of him being torn up this way—horrified, Phil felt sweat fall off his forehead and shoulders. He couldn't take this much pain. And Vince continued to thrust hard into him, making sure he was deep into Phil before he started to thrust again and again, fastening his pace with every moment and Phil clutched onto his stomach, absolutely disgusted and horrified. His eyes staring up at Theodore's smirking eyes and face. And when Vince came, Phil was just glad it was over.

Just when he thought so, they switched positions, making Phil cry out in horror. "No! Please! Just stop!"

"You hear of this lullaby? _Hush little baby, don't say a word…_" Vince ran his hand through Phil's hair before he shoved his cock into Phil's mouth and Phil was tired of tasting the skin but he sucked anyways, sweat and tears falling and mixing. At the same time, Theodore pushed into him, hard and fast and Phil whimpered while trying to suck at the same time, his head was definitely blurred and the scent was empowering and just as Theodore had came after a few hard, painful thrusts, they both left Phil laying naked on the floor. Blood and cum everywhere and Phil was just glad it was over now…still, he felt so damn tired and so damn weak.

Phil whimpered. His eyes went towards the time, and he let the tears fall as he curled up. Whimpers rose up from his throat. His eyes stared at the clock. _4:50 AM_.

He heard the sound of the door opening and Phil shut his eyes. "Please, p-please, don't just leave me alone!" his throat was dry and the taste was still in his mouth and when he felt two hands wrap around his waist, sitting down beside him and a soft kiss on the cheek, he knew it was his boyfriend, none other than Ted DiBiase Jr.

_He has the same name a-as…_

Phil's eyes shut tight as Ted held onto the whimpering, shaking Phil. "Who did this to you?" Ted's voice was angry, and yet pained at the sight of his lover so torn. "Who did this to you, Phil?"

"V-Vince and…and… Teddy L-L-"just at that, Ted knew, and put a finger on Phil's mouth. "They…they r-raped me…" tears fell from those eyes.

"W-what? Those bastards!" Ted exclaimed angrily, looking back at Phil, hugging him. "Oh, poor baby…"

Nothing could be heard by soft sounds and a hushed lullaby replayed over Phil's head, over and over, again and again, making him whimper and cry even more in Ted's chest. _"Hush little baby, don't say a word…"_

* * *

**Um…yeah…so… that was interesting.**

**I have no idea what I'll be writing next so…XP.**

**X Sam.**


	16. Barely Breathing RandyPhil

**I give you permission to kill me for not updating much but writing this. Actually, I'm writing this for Areesha, because I promised her I would. I'll try updating on other stories but seriously, half of them, I just don't have an angle for and I have a dozen new ideas, it's chaotic. And _Nightshifters_, do not get me started on that one. So many ideas and so little space to fill them in and I have no idea how I'm going to portray them! I'm stuck badly.**

**Plus, I'm sick so that gives me an excuse, no?**

**Come on…please?**

* * *

Title: Barely Breathing  
Rated: +18 – dark; horror; teaser  
Summary: There's a mysterious door in Randy Orton's hotel room and Phil Brooks wants to find out what's behind it. And…the Dark…it-it's gonna get him…  
For: Areesha, _xxAREESHAxx_.

* * *

This was wrong.

Phil Brooks was scared.

And Randy Orton was using him.

"It'll all be okay…don't you know that love can drive away anything?" Randy whispered, his voice warm and soft, almost breaking Phil's heart as Randy's thumb traced a vein out of Phil's neck, making him shake underneath him and the door was never closed yet never fully open yet it was calling Phil.

Phil knew.

"It's scaring me, Randy."

Randy chuckled as he bit down at Phil's neck, making him whimper a slurred whimper as Randy's hand went to grabbing onto Phil's ass, 'don't worry, baby. Let's hop off into the shower and it'll all be okay. Let's cleanse our self from this darkness, don't you think?"

Phil was afraid of the door.

Phil insisted that there was something watching over him, watching his every move, his every breath… something in that door that never crept out but was calling out to Phil, begging him to walk in, soft whispers that Randy never heard and now, as Phil had stepped into the shower with Randy, Randy's hand grabbed onto Phil's length, making his breath almost stop in his throat as Phil's hands went towards Randy's neck, kissing the lips and around them, already moaning seductively.

Randy knew that Phil always had better sex when he was distressed and Randy could never have enough sex out of Phil.

Phil's body was glorious, beyond beautiful, the beige skin of his made every vein pop out, made him so real that it was almost impossible to say that they were both dead when they were touching each other…but Phil was so damn dead on the inside, scared and terrified, just a little tiny child that had been left alone in the dark too much.

Randy's teeth were biting and nibbling at Phil's neck, feeling the skin flesh underneath his grip beg for mercy as it throbbed and pulsed with satisfaction and Phil could feel Randy's cock throbbing with every movement he made and Phil just wanted nothing more than to have that inside of him.

To complete him.

Randy took his time though, biting onto every bit of salty wet skin as the shower water made it feel like it was raining and the sensation was too incredible to describe. Phil never wanted it to end. Phil could never think when he and Randy were touching each other, it wasn't a moment of pleasure…it was like Phil's only alcohol, it made him forget, it made him escape…

It was Phil's much needed release.

"Randy…"

"Baby, turn around."

And with that, Phil did turn around to expose Phil's toned ass and with that, Randy smirked and allowed his fingers to dig into Phil's ass, the fingers feeling the tightness and wetness as he probed through before he shoved himself inside of Phil, causing Phil's breath to shorten as he screamed a scream of pleasure and Randy's hands were onto Phil's stomach, bringing him _closer closer closer closer_…

"Oh Randy…"

He felt like he was a part of Randy now. Not Phil. Just Rank. Nothing more than that.

Phil felt Randy's release inside of Phil and he felt tiredness overtake him as Phil released himself, yet Randy refused to give up. He wanted more. He wanted to take Phil to a bar…he wanted to take Phil to a forest…he wanted more and more. The sensation of climax didn't yet reach Randy.

"I know what we could do."

* * *

The bar had many people talking around and when Phil had seen the enormous amount of alcohol, he was about to leave but Randy had grabbed onto the collar of Phil's shirt and kissed onto Phil's earlobe, 'come on…let's do this. Let's show the world that we're in love."

"F-fuck in front of them?!"

"Yes."

With that, Randy threw off all of the contents of one table and pulling Phil there, pulling off Phil's t-shirt and causing Phil to whimper as the crowd went around the table to hear Phil's whimpers of horror and deceit.

"Free porn!"

Phil's clothes were just gone after a while. Nothing to cover his skin, that was now exposed for everyone to see as Randy took off his own pants and belt, getting on top of the table and kissing Phil with roughness that shouldn't have been there.

They heard a few whistles from drunken men.

"Randy, stop it!"

"You stop kissing me!"

Phil just couldn't stop responding and when Randy had actually shoved himself inside of Phil once more, Phil let out a scream of pleasure as the sweaty skin pressed against Randy's, kissing onto Randy's neck.

Then he heard the insults.

"Slut."

"Whore."

"How much for that piece of ass?"

That brought tears to Phil's eyes as he stood up and took his clothing, wearing them as quickly as he could've and ran off, only to have Randy following him, now dressed in his attire as he held onto Phil's arm.

"Phil, stop!"

"You humiliated me in front of everyone! I'm not some prostitute, you know!"

"Phil…"

And that was when Phil's eyes burned with terror as a whimper slipped out of Phil's mouth and Randy grabbed onto Phil's hand, leading him towards the forest. "You can hear the door shit from here?"

Phil shook his head. "The dark…the dark, Randy…the dark…"

"We're in love. Love can drive away anything, no?"

"What love?! You fucking use me constantly! All you ever do is fuck me until I can't breathe! And-and-"

With that, Phil slapped Randy and that caused Randy to tackle Phil to the ground, watching as the tears sprung out of his eyes.

"Well, you're the one who believes in a childhood fantasy that doesn't exist! Just walk into that door! You'll see that nothing's fucking there!" Randy swung his fist towards Phil's stomach, causing him to groan and hold onto his stomach as he descended, leaving Phil on the ground to cower as the raindrops fell…

* * *

"Fuck Phil! I don't fucking need him around! The little bitch just screws up everything!" Randy hit the door and saw that it had opened up, still no voices and then he heard the door being slightly open, seeing Phil standing there with a look of terror in his face. "Just stop right there! It's just a door!"

"R-Randy… don't go…"

"Watch me!" Randy exclaimed, walking inside of the door and leaving Phil behind who was scaring but couldn't handle the guilt as he walked inside and in that moment, the door swung shut, nothing to light up the darkness that was there and in one single moment, he felt himself burn with dizziness.

'_Phil…Phil…you haven't been a good boy, have you? Silly child.'_

And with that, Phil's body hit the ground.

'_We'll release your intentions. What do you want more than life itself, Phil…? What do you want?'_

* * *

In that moment, Phil had woken up, crawling towards Randy, their bodies pressing against each other as Phil's eyes looked around the all dark word, no colors, no nothing. Randy was right, nothing was here…yet it still scared the hell out of him and with that, Randy's blue eyes sprung to life.

"I'm scared, R-Randy."

"Look…"

"Randy, I'm scared!"

"What did you hear?"

_"…we'll release your intentions…what do you want more than life itself, Phil…? What do you want…?"_ Phil recalled the phrase, making Randy's eyes widen.

"What do you want?"

"I wanna get out of here!"

'_No, Phil, there's something else you want…'_

"I want…I want…"

'_Something about Randy, Phil.'_

"I want…"

And with that, Phil pulled out a knife out of his pocket, making Randy's eyes widen as Phil stabbed Randy's stomach.

"I want him. I want him dead."

"Phil!"

"You used me!"

"Phil! Baby, you're not thinking clearly…"

"I want love."

"I love you."

"LIES!" Phil stabbed Randy again in the stomach, harder than ever, probing the knife through his stomach until the blood poured out, seeping. "I can cover the black with red, Randy…the pretty red blood…I can cover the dark with red…"

With that, Phil stabbed himself in the chest, near his heart.

"PHIL! Have you gone insane?"

Phil fell over and Randy forced himself to move towards him, cupping Phil's cheek as tears fell from Randy's eyes and fell down towards Phil's face, sobs raked… "Phil?"

"Randy… if you don't love my blood…then how could you love me?"

"You're beautiful. You're so beautiful. I love you. I'm sorry…I'm sorry…I'm so fucking scared…Phil…" Randy felt Phil's arms wrap around him as he placed a simple soft kiss onto Randy's lips and that kiss meant more to them than anything else in the world. "Randy…I don't wanna be in the darkness. I wanna be in the light. With my parents. In heaven. I don't wanna go to Hell…"

"Oh, Phil, baby, you're going to Hell with me."

"I'm scared."

"Close your eyes."

"I-I'm scared…"

"Close your eyes."

With that, Phil's eyes softly closed and Randy stared at him, momentarily, noticing how short his breaths had gone until he was barely breathing and Randy took Phil's knife before whispering a quick "I love you" and he'd meant it, the times that he'd fucked Phil, he'd felt this attachment…he'd wanted this and without another thought, he plunged the knife through his own heart.

Randy lay on top of the barely breathing Phil whose eyes were staring at the blackness. "I-I killed him…" Phil sobbed. "I…I'm crazy…" but when Phil looked back at Randy, he could almost hear him saying…

"_Love can drive away anything."_

* * *

**Not my best yet not my worst. I think?**

**Do you like it?**

**X Sam. **


	17. In Loving Memory PhilMatt

**If you haven't read **_**'Brothers Long Lost' **_**then I will find you & eat you alive.**

* * *

Title: In Loving Memory  
Summary: Getting off the elevator and into a new world? Just not what he wants. ChipMUNK.  
For: _xxVioletxxRosexx_.

* * *

"Hello, Hardy."

"Hello, bitch."

"Like you're a Greek God."

"Yes, yes, I am."

"You're so damn full of yourself."

Just as he was about to leave, Phil felt Matt's hand onto Phil's arm, Matt's soft breaths near Phil's ear, 'looks can be deceiving."

Matt let go.

Phil watched as he walked away.

'_Freak'._

* * *

The ravenette took a deep breath.

Now, he just wanted to go into his hotel room but he swung his fist toward the buttons on the elevator and almost broke them, cussing under his breath and he wanted to calm down but _that fucking Matt Hardy—ugh!_ He swung his fist at the buttons again until the elevator just rushed up, the impact being so strong that he was knocked down and he found himself onto the floor, trying to try not to throw up as violently as he can on the floor right now and as the elevator stopping, he took a deep breath and stood up.

Phil Brooks walked inside of the land in front of him.

The elevator just closed as quickly as it could.

"NO!"

Phil stood there, looking around, and realized that everything was so bloody…red…the grass that he was walking in was a deep dark red and the sky was bubbling with a pinkish red color and the color red just burned his eyes, droplets and trails of blood all around, blood red roses were planted, Phil's eyes locked just so he can't see it all as he felt a hand hold onto his arm.

"Stephen Stone."

Phil turned around to face Stephen Stone's pale face, those red eyes that stared at him as they looked at Phil.

"W-where in fuck's name am I, douche bag?!"

Stephen's eyes burned with lack of amusement as he turned around, 'you're now a Blood Valentine, part of The Cold. In other words, you're in a place that only existed in Hell just because you were pushing wrong places in an elevator—"

"Wait! What?!"

"You're in Hell, idiot. You're in a part of Hell that could only be accessed by the Devil himself. But you seem to like pushing buttons, huh, don't you, kid? Other than that, I feel sorry for you. It isn't all sunshine and rainbows here…hey, why you so scared?"

Phil bit down his lower lip. Fear igniting in his eyes yet he refused to believe so. "I'm not scared!"

"Yeah, and you aren't in love with that Matt Hardy guy that were just bashing two seconds ago."

"I don't even like that bastard!" Phil exclaimed, his eyes now burning with ignited fury as Stephen laughed and shook his head, pulling out a blood red rose from the ground and biting through it, letting droplets of blood run down his pale face and Phil's stomach churned as he stepped away slowly.

"Here, 'the man gestured to Phil, plucking another blood red rose from the ground and giving it to Phil, 'try this. It may look disgusting but if you eat that, you'd taste the way your lover tastes. Hey, this may be as closet you get to that Matt guy."

Phil looked at the flower in his head, feeling disgusted.

"Do it."

Phil bit through the petal, letting the blood seep through, the taste of vanilla and honey—like the way Matt smelled.

"See? What I tell you?"

"This proves nothing," Phil snapped back at him, staring eye to eye with Stephen, anger burning in his eyes, 'I don't even like him!"

"Well, I was gonna tell you how to get out of here but since you're planning to be a douche bag about it…"

"No! I don't anything you wanted!"

The thought of seeing a colorful world again, painted with colors, seeing people he knew, eating things he liked, snuggling under his blanket, eating cheesecake and pretending that the rest of the world didn't exist—he wanted that all over again and he couldn't have it and pure, true fear and terror was building up at the thought of never seeing home again…his shoulders shaking and his eyes exploding with horror.

"Blood Valentines like going to Earth, you know. We usually are around in Valentine's Day but in your exception…"

Stephen walked towards Phil, holding onto Phil's arm and looked at him, grinning. "You'd make a perfect Blood Valentine, The Cold will accept you as one of us… your body, your eyes, your soul…it just fits all too perfectly, doesn't it? You were meant to be damned into being one of us."

"No! LET ME GO!"

"Shh…" Stephen only held tighter at the protest, 'it's only for one day…besides, do you want to see your human world again?"

"Y-y-yes," Phil stuttered, looking down at his feet.

"Excellent! It's arranged then." Stephen bit through Phil's earlobe to draw blood out of there, 'be part of us…be one of us…even if it's for one day, I can guarantee you'll learn a lot about us."

"No! Let go of me! I don't wanna be part of you!"

"Okay then listen clearly. Come follow me before I kill you." Stephen barked and Phil followed him into the room that Stephen had guided him too, a scolded area and when Phil looked at the wall, he realized why… _'Gallery of Suicide'_ was imprinted well and graphically with blood onto the light red walls, and Phil looked around at the pictures, men that took pills, killed by guns, threw themselves off buildings, so many people… "People here become part of the Cold if they kill themselves…they think that they're unloved and we…we can't love anyone."

"B-but-"Phil stared at Stephen, 'love is an emotion. It's not something that you just decide not to have."

"And we lack emotion, idiotic child!"

Phil watched as Stephen's body turned paler than it was at the coldness as Stephen continued to speak, 'I am nothing more than a part of this suicide trend. I killed myself because she could've love me and she's still alike yet when I'm beside her every night, she can't see me and I still feel nothing for her. I just can't feel anything at all! She's nothing to me…so I suggest that you tell that Hardy bastard of yours that you like him before Ian takes it all away…and he will…he will hurt us all just because he can't love as well!"

"I…I don't like him! He's FUCKING USELESS. HE'S JUST A WASTE OF SPACE! I don't like him! He's a bitch! HE-HE SHOULD GO JUMP OFF A CLIFF! I HATE HIM!"

"Yes, yes, you do," Stephen snapped at him.

"I-I'm tired. I just wanna go to sleep. Please?" Phil begged, trying to cut the conversation short but he was tired and exhausted, mentally and physically yet Stephen ordered that he lied down there, and sleep there onto the cold marble ground and Phil didn't protest as he lied down, stretching and feeling his sore muscles as his eyelids dropped at the scent of blood that hung around the air…

The first thing that woke Phil up that late night was the words "he's dead".

Phil's eyelids slowly opened as he faced Stephen's face and jumped up while Stephen smirked at the tired Phil, 'he's dead."

"W-what?"

Phil's eyes were bubbling with tears. "I'm just tired…please…don't—"

Stephen threw the newspaper towards Phil who clutched it as tight as he could've, the words written making Phil's eyes burn with tears.

_Matthew 'Matt' Moore Hardy, aged 36, was found dead after jumping off a cliff. Nothing but a tape clutched in his hands of a source that his brother, Jeff Hardy, had identified was their long time rivals, CM Punk. "I didn't know that Matt would ever do that! He's not the type! It just happened…" the tearful 32 year old wrestler stated. _

_The tape has been replayed. "I…I don't like him! He's FUCKING USELESS. HE'S JUST A WASTE OF SPACE! I don't like him! He's a bitch! HE-HE SHOULD GO JUMP OFF A CLIFF! I HATE HIM!" And he'd taken the tape to heart by truly jumping off the cliff even if this CM Punk character hadn't meant it and was just insulting him…our hearts are all with this tortured wrestler._

Phil gasped. "You…you…"

"You don't like him, what does it matter?"

Phil stood up, tears now falling from his face, cascading freely as he just ran, he ran as hard as he could've, the blurred images around him didn't matter as he found himself in a middle of the forest, and he took blood roses off the ground, eating them, biting through them—

'_Try this. It may look disgusting but if you eat that, you'd taste the way your lover tastes. Hey, this may be as closet you get to that Matt guy."_

Closet as he could get.

The taste intoxicating.

And that was the last taste that was in his mouth and the blurred images were just too much as he found himself on the floor. A lot of blood seeping from his head. Had he jumped off the cliff too? All he could remember was tasting the red blood roses and then…just feeling this rush of energy as he fell…and now, he was bleeding so fast. "I fucking hate you, Matt…" Phil had tears now falling from his eyes, 'I-I…I love you. I-I-I'm sorry…M-Matt…I…I…I…you…"

With that, the ravenette's eyes closed as the blood continued to seep.

_'Looks can be deceiving."_

* * *

"_I fucking hate you, Matt…" Phil had tears now falling from his eyes, 'I-I…I love you. I-I-I'm sorry…M-Matt…I…I…I…you…" With that, the ravenette's eyes closed as the blood continued to seep._

He closed the tape.

He'd seen enough.

* * *

Finishing with the inscription of the thick cold stone, Jeff stood up and turned around to walk off.

* * *

'_In Loving Memory of Phil Brooks & Matt Hardy, they were two souls, connected yet detached, apart yet close, loved yet hated… may angels guide them together to each other again…'_

* * *

**I actualleh like this one for some reason.**

**Haha. X3.**

**Anyone want me to write them something? XP!**

**X Sam. **


	18. You’ve Got a Friend JeffMatt

**Little something I cooked up for a darling that has it **_**all**_**. I know I should've tortured Jeff but I wanted to torture Matt more. XD. I love a weak Matt sometimes. It's easier to write Matt angst. XD. By the way, those who haven't read '**_**Torn'**_** can still read this. XD!**

* * *

Title: You've Got a Friend  
Summary: A hospital is burning and a certain mental patient refuses to move from his place. Matt would rather suffer…spin-off of the _Torn_ series. Aftermath of '_Torn'_ with a horrible twist at the end.  
For: _NeroAnne_…mah piece of darling, mah sweetest of the sweets, _MINE_. X3. I am the worst sub ever. XD.

* * *

"Hello, Matthew."

Cristobal walks towards Matt, looking as Matt slowly rocking himself back and forth, his soft hard brown eyes threatening to let tears fall from them but he doesn't cry _because he's done crying _and he doesn't say anything _because he's done screaming_ and he doesn't look up to Cristobal _because they're nothing to fucking look up to anymore_. Matt's eyes then look up towards Cristobal, his eyes gets irritated at the strong beam of light…_what light? His sun died a long time ago! _

"H-hello."

"How are you today?"

Matt's eyes are staring at Cristobal, 'how am I today?" Matt asks.

"I don't know…are you happy?"

Matt just continues staring at him, waiting, thinking before blinking, over and over, trying to register the words that Cristobal are saying but the Doctor knows it, just by looking into Matt's eyes, that he's desolate and completely and utterly devastated but Matt wouldn't say anything about this devastation that's roaming throughout his body, the desolation that's been eating up all his thoughts into nothingness. "What does it mean…happy?"

Cristobal chuckles but when he realizes the seriousness of the schizophrenic's face, he picks up a chalk and draws a smiley face, a horrible drawn round face with a smile and two eyes, and Matt just stares at it. "That's a happy face."

Matt smiles, a broken sad smile. "Am I happy?"

Cristobal just shakes his head, lifting Matt's chin up and leaning down to be eye-level with the boy who's huddled up by the corner of the room, 'no, you're sad…why are you sad, Matt?"

"I don't know." Matt lies, his eyes looking down at the floor.

"Tell me why you're sad, Matt. I'm here to help you, isn't that right? Do you want me to get you a pillow? A blanket? A cup of tea? So we can sit down and you can tell me why Matt doesn't want to smile a real smile?"

"I-it's a real smile." Matt says, still grinning his fake smile, 'I-I'm happy. See?" at that second, tears spring to life in Matt's eyes…

"I-I'm happy…"

Sobs escape from Matt's lips. "I-I'm happy…I have a happy Matt face…see? See? Don't I have a happy face, Doctor…Cristobal…? I'm h-h-happy."

"Matt-"

"I'M HAPPY! I'M HAPPY! I'm happy…" his voice breaks towards the end, tears still cascading from his face, stinking and hot, his broken, heart-breaking sobs falling from his lips and his heart bleeds with pain and desolation, a thousand thoughts battling in his head until he can't think and the schizophrenic puts his head on his shoulder.

'_Idiot. Stop lying to yourself, Matt. You're so happy that you're crying from happiness, aren't you? You're as sad as sad can be. FACE IT!'_

"Chris…Cristobal…the evil voice is back! It's telling me that I'm sad! I'm HAPPY! I'M HAPPY! See? _Seee…? I'm a happpppppppyy personnn…_a happy smiley face… _I'm haaaappy… see? Seeeee?_ Cristobal?" Matt says and his tears gone but sticky streaks are still visible on his face as Matt feels his stomach churn yet he doesn't care at all.

"You know what makes me happy?" Cristobal baby-talks to Matt, sitting down beside him, looking at Matt's face, grinning like an idiot, his entire face brightening up and Matt feels envy stir into him, knowing that he can't even smile like that as Cristobal continues, 'I get a friend! I get a nice good friend that helps me through this. Do you have any friends, Matt?"

Matt nods his head. "I have one right there." Matt points towards the air.

'_An imaginary friend isn't for sixteen year olds, Matthew,'_ Cristobal thinks but he won't say that straight to Matt's face, he won't break Matt's already broken into pieces heart as Cristobal thinks of something to say, 'what's his name, Matt? How old is he?"

"Jeff. He's nine."

"Jeff?" Cristobal repeats, raising an eyebrow, knowing that Matt is talking about his brother but he won't tell anything about it. "How is Jeff, Matt?"

"Jeff is happy."

"What's he saying?"

Matt looks down at the floor, now returning to rocking himself back and forth, not saying a word at all.

"What's Jeff saying, Matt?"

"He's telling me to be happy…"

"Be happy, Matt."

"I can't! I can't!" Matt says, stopping from his rocking, staring at Cristobal with a look of desperation on his face as his breath turns shallower, 'I can't be happy! I don't know how! It hurts! I wanna be happy! I want Jeff to be happy because I am too! He's happy…and I'm sad…I'm very sad…_saddd Matt_!"

"Shut it, Matthew!" Cristobal says, now utterly annoyed, 'you're sixteen years old yet you're acting like a child! And you know what, Matthew? We understand why Jeff died _because of you_. It's because you're a complete and utter freak! We understand it all! We know that you have schizophrenia but this…this is too much! Either you tell me why you developed this disease and stop being a six year old then I might just develop a hint of respect for you!"

Matt looks down, biting at his swollen lower lip and trying to preventing tears from falling.

"Tell me, Matt…how did Jeff die?"

"He w-was dying…in my arms…d-didn't take the surgery b-b-because the Doctor wanted to kill him…a-and I…I just held him…his last breaths on me…his eyes just—closed…I just sat down and started shaking him for hours on end…but he didn't wake up…he wanted to take away the coldness…he t-thought I hated him…h-he died thinking that I h-h-hated him…God…_JEFF, I LOVE YOU!_" Matt puts his head into his hands, crying, '…I-I-I love you…so much…baby doll…"

"What's he saying now?"

"He isn't talking…" Matt sniffles, his eyes are cherry red, 'he must think I'm pathetic."

Cristobal wants to tell Matt that he isn't pathetic but in the same time, Matt doesn't want lies, he wants the truth and to that, Matt doesn't say anything because he knows what Cristobal really thinks of him and Cristobal smells the scent of smoke around the air, at that, he spins around and runs off to see that a fire is building up and turns around to face Matt who's grinning like an idiot, his face bright, 'see? I'm smiling…I'm happy…I've got a friend."

"The building is on fire, Matt! You can't stay here! You'll die!"

Matt shakes his head, 'no…I-I'm just hallucinating this…right, Jeff? There's nothing wrong…I'm happy…everything's perfect…everything's okay…I'm a happy happy Matt Matt face…"

"Matt, you're going to die!"

Matt looks up at him, still smiling brightly as Cristobal grabs onto Matt's hand and tries to pull him yet Matt resists the urge and pulls himself down, making Cristobal just give up and run off towards the exit on his own, not even bothering to look after Matt, who looks up at the ceiling. "I've got a friend, Cristobal…I'll see Jeff again… he says that we're both going to the same place… Heaven? Hell? I don't know…I really miss the real one… my friend can't really help me…"

The fire spreads until it reaches to the room and Matt doesn't even bother looking at the fire that's now igniting.

"I'm happy…I-I'm happy…"

Matt's eyes are now bubbling with tears the memory over washes his head.

_On the floor, holding onto the bars, Jeff's hyperventilating and he stares at his suddenly alert Matt who weakly walks over to him, holding onto the bars, feeling Jeff's cold breaths on his face._

"_I'm scared, Matty…" Jeff whimpers. "I'm gonna die…"_

_Matt weakly cups Jeff's cheek, feeling that soft flesh that he's loved so much just at the tip of his fingers. "Oh Jeff…"_

"_It's cold…"_

_Jeff presses his head against the bars, sobbing._

"_It's so cold…"_

_Matt stares at the officers, Darrell's gone and now, a chubby man is standing there while Matt looks over him with begging eyes and the man gives in before opening his cell and allowing Jeff to crawl towards Matt, both of their bodies pressing against each other, dry ice. Cold fire._

"_It's so cold, Matty. Make it all go away. I don't want the coldness…" Jeff sobs and Matt wraps his arms around Jeff's figure, the tiny silhouette of his brother, Matt runs his hand down Jeff's back._

"_Make it all go away…"_

"_Jeff…"_

_I love you._

"_I'm sorry for being such a kid, Matty. I know that you hate me more than anything right now. I'd hate me too. I'm so stupid."_

"_No, Jeff-"_

_**I love you.**_

"I-I love you, Jeffy…I make a bad pretend happy face…I have a sad Matt face…a very s-sad one…" Matt sobs, tears still burning down his cheeks, 'I-I don't have a friend…I'm alone. I'm all _aloneee_…"

_Just as Matt lifts Jeff's chin, he sees that Jeff's eyes are closed and no breath is escaping his mouth and Matt leans down to capture Jeff's mouth into a death kiss before he lets the tears fall. He stares at Jeff, cold, tired, broken on the floor…_

"_I love you, Jeff…"_

Matt feels himself burn into the deepest of pains that he'd ever imagined yet being reconnected with Jeff again is all he cares about as he closes his eyes and moves his head from side to side. "I want a happy Matt face…I w-want a happy Matt face…" and with that, Matt's eyes shut tight as the fire continues to burn the remains of Matt Hardy.

* * *

_Nine year old Jeff giggles as he watches his brother burn to ashes, not really understanding what's happened. "You make a bad happy face, Matty!" Jeff bounces up and down… "but remember, you've got a friend! You've got me! Matty…?" _

_Jeff cocks his head to one side. "Where'd you go?"_

_The imaginary boy looks around the fire as he strolls down. "Are we playing hide and seek now? You know, I'm not very good at that game…"_

* * *

**Review? **

**X Sam.**


	19. Cruel Intentions MarshallNero

**To _NeroAnne_, thank you, mah luff! X3! I'm glad you liked it. I just adore Matt!angst. XD. And we all have our imaginary friends. X3. Also, yeah, I was counting that the ending was horrifying. XD. It is a horror. Anyways...Marshall & Nero copyrighted of _TheMizMagnet_, Aly. By the way, you don't need to know _Supernatural_. All you need to know is that they hunt supernatural things. That's enough for this. X3. Haha. I don't know how got this or if this is weird or not...but...well, this is the only thing that I could think of. XD.**

* * *

Title: Cruel Intentions  
Summary: Crossover with _Supernatural_. Sam and Dean investigate an old abandoned hospital where Jeff said to have been scared to death by seeing an Englishman being chased around by another man. Marshall/Nero, Hunter/Jeff.  
For: _TheMizMagnet_. Aly is just awesome. X3. Haha. LUFF FOR HER.

* * *

"Come on, Jeffro."

Matt dared, staring at Jeff's pale face as he stared at the hospital door before nodding his head, taking a flashlight and moving towards the door and from then, anyone could've gotten a good glimpse of Jeff's ass, his beige pants hugging his body tightly as the short turqouise tank that he wore showed off his stomach's piercing and slowly, he crept inside, Matt stepping back with a mischiveous smile on his face. There was no possible way that Jeff can get through the hallways without screaming and running back towards Matt and at that moment, Matt heard his cell phone buzz as he pulled it out to see that none other than Hunter had called him.

"Hello, Hunt?"

_"Where the fuck is Jeff?! If something's happened-"_

"I'm his fucking brother! I'm not going to hurt him. Just daring him to into this abandoned hospital. It's old and stuff but it's not gonna fall apart and what--are there going to be ghosts inside? What exactly? Hunter, don't you dare call me around. You know I've been protecting Jeff for years. I know how to take care of him, understood?! I won't let anything hurt him! It's just a harmless prank! Jay is supposed to be in a sheet and scare him! That's all!"

_"If he's hurt-"_

"He's not going to get hurt. You think I'd take a chance if Jeff could get hurt?!"

_"I guess you're right."_

"I am."

_"Bitch." _

"Bastard."

_"Don't forget, Matt. You don't go acting all superior on me. Just last year, you were the one that came out of that haunted house looking like shit and don't forget, the year before, you were the cockslut."_

"Shut up."

Matt hung up, looking at the door and waiting for his brother to run out screaming, as usual. Jeff couldn't handle the simplest of horror movies and Matt wouldn't say that he was well with horror movies either but he was better than Jeff. Not in sex though. Jeff was less of a slut than Matt was, even if it didn't show. Jeff was more of the show off, with the tight tops and skirts and sexy dresses but Matt needed sex more. Jeff was the type to take it slow while Matt was the one slipping in everyone's showers, not that he'd ever acknowledge that.

A scream.

Jeff's girlish sceam.

Matt grinned as Jeff ran towards Matt, flinging himself on him, whimpering and sobbing and Matt just stared. There was no way any ghost would have this type of affect on Jeff, 'Jeff?"

"He-I-blood..."

Matt's eyes widened as Jeff held onto while he walked inside of the dark hallways once more.

Not soon after, Jeff and Matt's screams filled the hallways.

On the floor, sprayed out, was Jay's corpse.

* * *

"Okay, two males, 32, 36, both of them walked into an old abandoned hospital and saw a corpse of their friend."

Sam and Dean Wincheser were both into their car, hearing to Dean's music and Sam's eyes were onto the front page of the newspaper, with the picture of the bloodied Jay as they headed towards North Carolina for a visit to see both the Hardy's and question them.

"Old spirit haunting the place?" Sam guessed.

"Yeah, probably." Dean nodded and took a look and Sam who was just staring at the newspaper, rereading the newspaper just to make sure he got all the information he could.

"Anything else it could be?"

"Suicide." Dean responded, grinning to himself that cocky grin of his.

Sam looked at Dean, shooting an annoyed glare at his brother, "Shut up, Dean."

"What? Just sayin'."

_

At the house, Dean knocked onto the door, waiting for a reply and a head poked out of the doorway as she allowed Dean and Sam to enter into the house when they flashed their fake police badges and to that, Sam and Dean sat onto the couch while the female pulled out two cups of tea for them, Matt closing the door and walking towards them.

"Excuse me, didn't you have another guy with you during the scare at the hospital this Tuesday?" Sam asked, looking from Matt to the female.

Matt simply nodded his head, 'yeah, Jeff."

"And where is he...?"

The female cocked an eyebrow. "Me?"

"Oh!" Sam realized, looking up and down Jeff's body once more before blushing into a deep shade of red, happy that his tan flesh had hid his own humiliation. "I'm sorry. It's just that you look like a girl. I didn't know."

"Sammy, I'll handle this one, 'Dean said, pulling away the cup of tea, and looking back at Matt and Jeff, 'anyways, you two saw a corpse of your best friend, huh? What can you tell us about the place? Did it smell like sulphur?"

Both of the Hardy Boy's cocked their heads in confusion before Jeff had asked, 'why would it smell like sulphur?"

"Never mind." Dean said, not knowing how to handle the case as he thought of another point he could ask. "That old hospital...did it have any ghost stories about it? Like someone who died a violent death and now haunts the building?"

"You believe in ghosts?" Matt asked but then sat down when he realized that no one will answer his questions as Jeff nodded his head, sitting down beside Matt on the couch that was the opposite to the couch that Dean and Sam were sitting in.

"There was this one guy named Cloven Thorne who killed all his patients before. He used to slice them up real good and kill them in the most violent ways he can because...I think because he was depressed and lonely and wanted everyone else to feel his pain and later on, this one patient outsmarted him and was about to get out of the hospital, him and another four I think, and they managed to kill Cloven. We didn't know how. It say that the ghost still lives in the hospital, just waiting to pounce on whoever enters, show them the 'perfect treatment'..."

"Did you see anything else besides your dead friend?"

Matt nodded, now indulging into the conversation. "I saw like this other guy in one room getting sliced up in the dark."

"Was this Cloven guy buried?"

"No. Cremated."

"That's all we need for now."

* * *

Dean and Sam walked inside of the room.

They saw Jay's corpse and grimaced before realizing that there was another male there, hanging by metal shackles and out cold and at that sight, Sam tried to break the shackles into pieces while Dean looked around for Cloven's spirit.

The Englishman fall onto the floor.

Marshall whipped his head towards Dean's face. "Wait, you're Marshall Cinder!"

"I'm quite the celebrity," Marshall said, staring at the excited Sam's face and then turned towrads Dean again.

Dean raised an eyebrow. "Who?"

"Marshall Cinder!" Sam exclaimed, causing Dean to continue to look at him with confusion. "Some British guy."

"Oh."

* * *

Marshall looked through every door and every hall and anywhere they could but he wasn't able to find Nero.

"Come on, Marshall. We need to get out of here."

"I'd rather bloody die. Nero is still around."

"Nero?"

"My lover."

"He's not around, Marshall! We looked up and down, 'Dean just stared at the Englishman. "He's gone. The Doctor must've killed him."

"NO! I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THAT!"

They could talk about anything in front of Marshall. Incest, blood, lust, murders but if they utter a sentence of 'Nero' and 'kill' then that was Marshall's weak point. He held his head in his hands for a moment, trying to contain himself.

"Marshall...it's okay..."

"It's not bloody 'okay'. He's hurt. I know!"

"He's not hurt, Marshall. He's dead." Sam tried to conjole him by holding his hand but Marshall jerked it off, glaring at him coldly.

"Don't you _dare_ say that."

"Marshall-"

Sam continued to dump gasoline and then dump in the metal, hearing the ghost had caused him to quickly do the job before Dean burned them, the ghost fuzzing into nothingness and Sam and Dean grinned at their handiwork before looking over at Marshall who didn't seem to care, looking down at the floor with that cold hardness plastered on his face.

"Look, Marshall, Nero is alive. But there's something that you need to know."

Marshall snapped his head up towards Sam's face.

_Sam and Dean looked over at the pictures of the victims in front of them._

_"They are five major victims around the day that Cloven died. Marshall, Nero, John, Mike, Mark."_

_"And...?"_

_"One died."_

_"So four lived. We need to talk to the ones that survived."_

Marshall just stared. "He's okay?"

"He's currently living alone in an apartment." Dean stated, 'but Marshall, we need to tell you something."

"What?"

"You're dead, Marshall."

Marshall just stared at them both, nodding his head at them. "But is he happy?"

Dean was about to say something but Sam stepped in. "He's not happy happy but he's coping, Marshall... we need to put you to rest."

"I'll go to rest myself."

Sam just stared, 'you're the first spirit that's said that."

"Tell him I love him."

Sam nodded his head.

A wave of light burned and as Sam and Dean looked, they saw that Marshall wasn't there anymore, a smile on Dean's face as he called Nero's number, 'hello, Nero?"

"Yeah?"

"He loves you."

Nero didn't need any other question but to bite down his lower lip and nod towards the phone even if no one could see him, tears filling up his eyes, 'rest in peace, Marshall."

* * *

**??**

**I didn't know how I got this idea anyways. XD.**

**X Sam.**


	20. Notes MattCentric

**Matt centric. Drabble.**

__

Title: Notes  
Summary: a bunch of notes. A story unraveling.  
For: who wants it? X3!

__

_I'm scared._

_He's watching me._

_Seeing me._

_I'm only six now._

_But I now he's a bad, bad man._

_Help._

_Please._

_Nobody listens._

_Nobody listens..._

____

_I'm scared._

_He's hurting me._

_He loves seeing me cry._

_He loves slapping me._

_He loves doing that thing with me._

_He says it's a game._

_It hurts so bad._

_He take me and takes off my clothing._

_And all that's left is the pain._

_It hurts so bad._

_And Jeffy..._

_I don't want him to see me cry._

_I'd just start at night._

_Tears._

_Tears._

_Tears._

_I'm eleven now._

_Help._

_Daddy, I'm scared of this guy._

_But I'd never tell you who it was._

_You just wouldn't believe me._

____

_He's scaring me._

_The blood on my face._

_He wants me to smile now._

_A weird smile._

_Just for one minute._

_I don't wanna smile._

_He takes the knife._

_He curves my lips._

_To make me smile._

_The scars on my lips._

_..._

_..._

_..._

_He's watching me._

____

_I'm a wrestler now._

_I don't really write anymore about him._

_Today is the first time I saw him again._

_He slaped me._

_Raped me._

_Said he loved me._

_I just took the gunshot._

_Jeff didn't come to the hospital._

_I said fine._

_I was too busy throwing up my own blood to care anyways._

__

Jeff just stared at the notes on the table.

He heard the sound of Chris Jericho walking inside, slipping and staring at the little papers before smirking a smirk that made Jeff want to throw up. "So, this guy, he um...killed Matt?" now, there was concern for his husband.

Jeff nodded his head. "I just don't understand why he didn't tell anyone. I didn't notice it. Dad didn't notice it. You didn't notice it and you were with us for as slong as Matt was alive. We grew up together... and I have a feeling that I should've noticed...even if nobody else did."

Chris sighed. "Jeffy, let's just go to bed."

Jeff nodded and walked off.

Chris looked over at the notes, reading them with a glance.

"I told you to smile for me, Matty..."

__

_He's scaring me..._

__

**X Sam.**


	21. Star Girl MattAdam

**A possible idea for a fic I may write. Beware. XD!**

**The song I'm going to use is **_**'Star Girl' **_**by McFly. Dedicated to mah sisteh, who hates slash so she can't read this but she likes the song, X3! Oh, here's a warning: **_**MALE PREGNANCY,**_** X3!**

* * *

Star Girl  
Summary: There are other solar systems beyond ours, right? But there are only four stars. Richelle, Janelle, Jeff and Matt. Two girls and two boys. Yet Matt doesn't want to complete the ritual of the universe…and humanity itself is at risk. But can the parents find Matt a guy that satisfies him? MPREG. X3!!  
For: who wants it? YOU CAN HAVE IT! XD!

* * *

_I'm dead  
Yet you still say you love me_  
July, 2nd, 2010  
**Hey, I'm looking up for my star girl  
**

Now, look at me.

I've failed them.

I've failed them all.

My parents, my family, the only person I've ever truly liked, even if it had only been a short while.

There's nothing left but writing in this book.

The universe is going to end into only a day, the whole world as I know it…

All that's left now is to say my story, my broken, shattered story. Jeff, my brother, all alone, in shackles probably, and me, I'm the idiot that's put him into this mess…all because of _him_. He's so beautiful, and the minute I'd seen him, I'd known I'd fallen for him, I'd fallen for those hard blue eyes, that beautiful, perfectly beige face, those strong arms that hold onto my figure, holding me, strong, telling me how beautiful I am.

Richelle…the girl that's helped Jeff through his nine month pregnancy. Humans are just like that.

And Janelle, she helped me through my own.

They'd always thought that Janelle and Richelle would get pregnant before me and Jeff, Jeff wants someone lovable and would help him through the toughest of time but there's something in Jeff's eyes that made him look dark, there's this black lining in those green eyes that turned everyone away but if people look hard at him, they'd see this shining beauty in him and once they'd see it, they'd always see it…

He's just beautiful.

Completely and utterly beautiful and adorable.

I'm, they always say that I'm just beautiful, they don't need to probe, it's just my skin… and my eyes and just everything, I've always been 'beautiful' on the inside and I've never really liked any boy.

I just don't want a male in my life.

Not until he came.

Changed the rest of my life.

My heart pounds as I hear the footsteps again.

Don't make him come in now.

Mark walks towards me, grabbing onto my collar and looking at me, and tears are slowly falling from my eyes.

God, I've been crying so much.

I deserve it.

This entire world's going to stop.

Because of me.

This entire world, going to break into nothing, all because I wouldn't complete the ritual.

My parents had made a deal with this 'destroyer' of the universe who had said that we'd all never amount to anything; we won't spread our own kind. There's only four of us, Jeff, me, Richelle and Janelle, are all this type of beautiful creatures that don't eat anything at all except in our pregnancy. And he wanted us to get pregnant and get married before the year ends…

Richelle did it.

Janelle did it…

Jeff did it…

I couldn't do it.

Tomorrow, the entire universe is going to be wiped out and nothing's going to be left out of it…

Nothing…

Because of me…

All because of me…

I just sit down here and I'm writing. I'm writing about what happened…how it starts, how it ends…

I'm writing because I have words to say.

And I can't speak.

I don't deserve my voice…

_The blood boils  
And the skin peels  
But you're beautiful_  
May, 5th, 2010**  
I guess I'm stuck in this mad world**

It's the first time I had visited Earth.

It's morning there.

It's a blue sky.

It's a pretty blue sky there…

I've never seen pretty blue skies before.

I look at this "hotel room", where there are these flat things that humans call "beds" and I sit down on one of them, a gasp escapes my lips. It feels so nice…I like beds. Beds are warm and cozy.

Beds are nice…

Richelle walks in. Janelle and Jeff follow.

We're not used to clothing like regular humans.

Richelle and Janelle are in something called a "bra" and "underwear" and apparently, they need to wear more clothes since people are watching and Jeff is his "panties" and so am I. I'm just confused to why people are staring at us.

Richelle and Janelle put on a "dress" and Jeff and me put on "pants" and a "shirt".

These humans are odd.

Why are they hiding their skin?

Can't they just be free in their skin as us?

I think Daddy says something about humans wanting to know what's underneath their clothes…being the disgusting sex-obsessed people they are.

I sit down onto the bed and then, there's the sound of human people walking through the hallways.

They're laughing and there is pretty voices coming from…some machine.

I think they call it a radio.

I stand up and I'm going to walk towards them but then Jeff stands in front of me. "Matty…you don't know these people…they could be disgusting."

I shake my head. "I'm looking to marry, remember? Maybe…I want to marry a human."

Jeff lets a howl of laughter. "Don't even joke about this."

I knock Jeff towards Richelle and walk towards their room, which is just across from us and they all stop to stare at me.

"Oh my God…" one of them starts.

"Adam."

"Shut up, Randy."

I realize that the one with the blue eyes and barely any hair is Randy.

And the blue eyed blonde is Adam.

"Chris…"

The other blonde blue eyed man is Chris.

I realize that now.

Adam stands up and walks towards him, circling around me and staring at me…I stare at him. At his eyes.

His eyes are pretty.

I want pretty eyes like that.

"You're new here?" Adam asks, 'you know…to this state?"

I nod my head.

I'm new to this planet.

But I know that humans don't know the existence of other species beside them so I just laugh silently on the inside then Adam slips my hand into his.

He's so pretty…

Adam is beautiful…

* * *

_Adam holds onto Matt's hand._

'_So beautiful.'_

_Adam's eyes are trailing onto Matt's body. A black shirt over jeans…but God, he looks amazing in them…_

_Adam wants to touch Matt's lips._

_They look so soft._

_He wants to see what's underneath those clothes…Matt just looks too out of this world…he'd do anything to get Matt to be his._

"_You wanna go on a date?"_

* * *

"ADAM!" Randy exclaims, his eyes widening.

I just stare at him. I don't know what a date is but I nod my head. I want to know more of their customs anyways. Adam grins like a monkey. "I'll pick you up at seven. Okay?"

So I go back towards my room.

Richelle and Janelle are sitting down, wanting to know what's going on and Jeff just looks furious.

"What did they say?"

"Did they do anything to you?"

"Matt…" Jeff says the last bit. His eyes full of annoyance.

"…I have a date with Adam."

"What's a date?" Richelle asks.

I shrug and grab onto a book that tells me more about human rituals and I flip over to the _'D'_ section, where it's written about dates.

This thing is a dictionary I think.

As I read it, I just can't believe it…

Adam sees me…as a…a possible love interest?

That night, as he comes to pick me up, he walks inside and takes me out to dinner. I make an excuse about me being sick and unable to eat. He talks about himself, about the fact that he's a wrestler and then in the middle of talking about his job, he says "you're beautiful".

He cups my cheek and kisses my nose.

I just stare at him.

Then he takes me back to the hotel room.

I'm just confused…why hasn't he asked me to marry him yet?

He stops at the door and looks at me. "Well…bye."

I just watch as he walks away…

Why didn't he ask me to marry him yet…?

* * *

**Review?**

**X Sam.**


	22. The Best Year Of Our Lives JeffMatt

**Shit. I need to update more on this. -_-**

**I NEED REQUESTS. XD. So I'm just starting to do lovely, horrific little one-shots for now. X3…**

_TheBestYearOfOurLives_

Title: The Best Year Of Our Lives  
Summary: a slumber party isn't life threatening. But for Jeff and Matt, it is.  
For: Kimber and Kassy! X3.

_TheBestYearOfOurLives_

The lifeless candle light into the darkness.

The only light for to supposed to be happy couple, as they circled around the candle, it was 11:11, both of them closing their eyes to make a wish and the cool wax ran…softly against the solid, so smoothly…enough to make Jeff's heart melt along with it…the soothing sensation didn't leave.

Matt just stared at the candle, stared at the flame, then slowly held his hand tightly with Jeff's, both of their eyes staring at each other. Then two lips pressed against each other. This seemed like a mere dream. Nights and nights apart had left their heart aching for reassurance and closure ever since Jeff had recovered miraculously from a cancer episode only days ago.

_Jeff blinked when he first saw the results. He and Matt didn't even move to their new house and now, this sickness was racking against his body to destroy the system of himself, and Jeff continued to stare the X-ray before reaching out for it with a shaking hand. Once he had it in his hands, he found the entire room spinning with the beat of his heart and Matt beside him, Matt held onto Jeff's shoulder, resting a head against Jeff's shoulder and Jeff pressed his head against Matt's._

_Soon enough, sobs fell from Jeff's lips and Matt didn't do anything but hold the petite boy, not say a word because silence…silence was the best form of talk. Matt realized that Jeff didn't need anyone to reassure him that it would be painless or tell him that he'd be going to Heaven, Jeff needed silence. Jeff needed to drift away from reality, to think instead of hearing someone else's words puncture through his mind and make a negative impact on his processing thoughts…_

_Jeff walked every day, he felt heavier for some reason, as if he could feel the tumor condensing in him…and it got to the point where it was clogging his body and they couldn't get it out. It was spreading too fast…it was condensing more and more and eating up Jeff's organs…but then again, one day, Jeff had just woken up from his sleep and when they'd taken the tests, there was no tumor and what shocked Jeff the most was that he didn't take any medication, any form of chemotherapy…he just slept and wept, until his heart burned with pain kept. _

_The moment he'd told Matt that, Matt had spun with joy. He held Jeff into his arms and spun him around, the weightless body flying into the air, and then there was a kiss. It started with a brief kiss, and then evolved into something lively and animating…then Jeff pulled away and blushed. "I really, really like you." Jeff whispered, as if he was just telling a hot high school football player that he had amazing biceps. _

"_I really, really like you too…" Matt chuckled, lacing his fingers with Jeff, entwining them to show the tightness of their bond and then an entanglement of tongues, a lovely kiss of eternity…that seemed to last eternity._

The candle remained lit into the darkness as Jeff walked towards the kitchen.

Leaning down to pick up a can of soda that was left onto the floor, Jeff stood up. Only in a see-through white gown that flowed with the sway of his hips, Jeff hummed to himself, then heard the sound of the backdoor knocking. Since Jeff was only inches away, he walked out to see who it was.

He heard nothing. He saw nothing. Just nothing.

Turning around, Jeff let out a shriek of terror.

Jeff held his hand onto his chest, softly breathing in and out, looking down at a young girl, with chopped straight black hair, and the most innocent eyes ever, her smile was made of sadness. "Come with me." She whispered, her voice was filled with sorrow and sadness as she pulled out a razor.

Oh God.

Jeff slipped backwards, hitting his ankle against the rock. "…just-don't…" Jeff begged. "I love Matt. I can't leave him."

"But I'm alone…" she whispered, tears burning into her eyes. "I want you with me…to hold me…to keep me safe."

Matt stepped outwards, looking at Jeff, who just stood up and walked inside, looking down at the candlelight. Matt turned to stare at Jeff, who was looking at the candle as if it was the source of everything. The girl tugged at Jeff's dress, and Jeff looked down at her, when she looked at the candle. "…what did you wish for?" she asked Jeff.

"…for eternal love."

She giggled. "And you do get it." She turned to look up at Jeff. The girl tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "With me. I'll always love you. I want someone to take care of me…please…"

Jeff leaned down to look at her, shaking his head. "But Matt…"

"Matt doesn't have to know. You can play with me," she sniffed, sitting down at the floor as Jeff looked back at Matt. "What did you wish for…?"

"I want a child." Matt chuckled.

Jeff looked back at the flames. "…I…fertility drugs?"

Matt nodded his head, grabbing onto Jeff's wrist and pulling him closer. "You don't want to. They're experimental and…" Matt ran a hand through Jeff's hip, '…I just want to just have a family with you, to be with you, and our little baby…it'll be the best time of our lives."

"When was our best year?" Jeff asked.

"The year I fell in love with you." Matt grinned, lifting Jeff's chin. "…just the start of this year, when you were right beside me, at New Year's Eve, with the candlelight beside you shining off your face and your hand clutching onto a golden clutch…your hair was in curls and pinned…I can see the flesh of your neck, glinting and then your face is beaming with happiness as the fireworks reflect on your face. Every color glinted in your eye and from then on, I always knew…whenever I looked at you, I always just saw that…beauty that is too sacred to be real…"

Matt pressed his lips against Jeff's.

"When I first fucked you that evening, I don't remember if we remembered any of it…but I remember being in you…I remember feeling your loveliness…I remember the colors. I remember the fireworks. I remember your eyes, your face crumbling in pleasure…I loved being in you. I loved being a part of you." Matt continued to shower Jeff's face with butterfly kisses until a glass of wine fell from the couch, breaking into pieces. The red liquid seeping through and Jeff stared it, leaning down to pick it up while he felt eyes stare at him.

The girl.

She was looking up at him. "Please…" she grabbed a piece of glass and ran it through her chest, blood seeped and the small cut just continued to grow and grow, and Jeff's eyes widened, seeing the deep blood, the core of her flesh fell, her chest exposed, in a way that was too horrific to be displayed. Her ribcage holding her beating organs, and the heart of her had a slice of a knife through it, and then he saw a little white mouse traveling up her stomach, holding onto her kidney for support.

Jeff couldn't take it. He wanted to look away while the girl moved, a trail of blood seeping from her steps. "Oh," she said, "I'm just in my true form."

She bounced up to get a glass from the floor, cutting a glass through Matt's chest, so that it expanded, through the blood and beating heart, there was some sort of a snake-like charm dangling from his neck. "Does he…actually have that in him?" Jeff asked while the little girl shook his head.

"Just like I never have the mouse in me. This is my true form. The mouse is a symbolic gesture of filth and adorableness. I'm not insane. I just enjoy the pain of reality…as you said, the best year of my life is the day I first opened my eyes…I could remember my birth and I died in my Mother…" she blinked, tears made of blood and a yellow sticky fluid forming into her eyes. "She didn't even name me. I don't even have a name…"

Jeff embraced her.

Matt stared down at him. He could hear a hazy "Jeff, what are you doing? What are you talking to?" then he felt Matt lean down and shake him but Jeff stayed into his trance, looking at the little girl. Jeff's hands sprayed onto the floor.

"I want to see my form." Jeff whispered.

"You had a tumor. A deformity in you…" she said with some sort of dispute. Pressing her finger against her flesh, where the blood and liquid have dried. "You're not human." She simply said.

"Look into the mirror…"

Jeff turned around to stare at the mirror on the wall, gasping at what he'd seen. Tears blurring his vision. The yellow fluid and blood coating his own eyes, his eyes that seemed like they'd melt at any moment, blood leaching from his eyes still…falling…sliminess that made Jeff cry out in horror.

"You're beautiful." The girl said, with complete honesty. "So beautiful…"

Jeff just stared at his image for a moment. Beauty was the last thing on his mind as Matt shook him, trying to make him snap out of it but he couldn't. He was in too much fear of why or what the girl was going to do next as she grabbed onto the blade, slowly trailing it along Jeff's leg, so that the flesh opened up and Jeff could see the blood, along with a million other fluids racing towards his heart. And for some reason, Jeff reached down to touch it…feeling the slime of the liquid.

"I'm a ghost." She whispered, looking down. "You're not human. You were born a zombie. Zombies can't have tumors. They have children."

"…childr-?" realization sparked up into Jeff's eyes. "My…my child?"

She nodded her head. "Zombies give birth in a horrifying sort of way. I slipped out of you in your sleep. Cut through you with my claws. I'm two feet tall, and can speak clearly and this is all I'm going to grow because I haven't been fed on my first night into the real world. Placebo effect explains why symptoms of cancer had came to you…because you thought you had cancer, your body thought so as well…I was born yesterday night, to an undead Mother and his brother…and nobody cares."

Jeff held onto her face, "Join me." She whispered. "Join me…don't let me get taken away…I want to go with you."

She brought the razor towards her chest and carved a heart, bleeding solely, she let the razor fall and hugged Jeff dearly. "…you like art…it's art, see? Pretty, pretty art…don't let the other zombies take me away…I don't want to. Not without you." She said, her voice soft. "When they find you…they'll take you anyways. I just—I want you now."

He just couldn't believe it. A four year old was forming into his body in a course of three months…

"Please…run away with me today. I don't want to be taken. They're bad people and I'm not a bad girl…I'm not…I don't want to kill anyone…"

Jeff nodded his head, holding onto her face. "I'll make it the best year of our life…I promise."

She nodded her head, her tears falling down as sobs filled the room. "Jeff!" Matt then hit him over the head with a pan, causing Jeff to lose consciousness….the blackness overtook him in a moment's time.

_TheBestYearOfOurLives_

Jeff slowly peered his eyes to stare around and he realized that he was in his bed, Matt holding onto him as tightly as possible. "No, just don't leave…" Matt whispered, holding onto Jeff's hair, 'just don't leave me… you just got cured from cancer. Just don't go. Please, God, don't take him away from me…"

After that, Matt just seemed to have fallen asleep.

Jeff turned around to see the haunting candle, right beside it a clock that said it was early morning. Jeff kissed Matt's face. "I really, really like you." Jeff said, holding onto Matt's arm. "I really, really, really…" Jeff closed his eyes.

"I LOVE YOU." Jeff said, in the most undeniable voice ever but Matt was too tired to open his eyes as Jeff stood up and dragged himself over towards the window, not even bothering to write a note, Jeff's hairclip falling onto the floor but Jeff didn't bother to pick it up as he stared at the girl.

Jeff held her into his arms for the first time, as she led him down towards the cemetery…while in Jeff's mind, all he could remember was Matt's face. His face when he was holding onto Jeff's body, begging him not to leave…and then he could remember the candle that was on the table now.

In the blackness, the candle beside Matt's bedside had extinguished and nothing was left but pain and agony.

_TheBestYearOfOurLives_

**YO. XD. I didn't kill anyone. This doesn't count as TOO sad. :3 **

**X Sam. **


	23. And All That Could Have Been JustinMatt

**Here you go! Some Matt Hardy/Justin Gabriel and I suck at the pairing because…well…I don't know anything about Justin Gabriel so I searched off the web and here you go! XD. Hope it doesn't suck too bad. ^_^ I NEEDS REQUESTS. REQUEST, PEOPLE! D:**

– _**T R I C K S**__ & T R E A T S_ –

Title: And All That Could Have Been  
Summary: Justin wrapped his arms around Matt's waist, resting his head onto Matt's shoulder, feeling Matt's thick black curls around him. Justin's tongue massaging Matt's neck. Confusion splattered all over Matt's face. "Justin? What are you doing…?"  
For: _LightLifeHardy_.

– **T R I C K S** & _T R E A T S_ –

After the show, Justin Gabriel would senselessly stare at Matt Hardy.

He'd never tell Matt straight to his face but he knew exactly how his body looked like after all the clothes had been shed and Justin knew that all he wanted to do was run his head against those smooth thighs, to feel the flesh, the blood, the life of him…it made Justin grin every day. Justin watched as Matt stepped out of the showers now. They shared a hotel room and they rarely saw each other and this time, Matt was about to tell Justin that he was going to go into his girlfriend's room but Justin wouldn't let that happen. Justin grabbed onto Matt's wrist.

This time. He wasn't gonna let go.

"Justin…?" Matt sighed. "I'm not gay."

Justin just grabbed onto the vase and cracked it upon Matt's head, causing him to fall down quickly. Almost in the second of the action, Matt looked up, feeling the blood drain out of his face, the sticky, strong liquid that made Matt start to hyperventilate and it was so out of this moment. It was the last thing Justin told him to do.

"You trained me…you taught me…but you can't control me for long…" Justin said, kissing onto Matt's neck, causing him to hyperventilate even more. "You can't control my emotions, Matthew Moore Hardy."

Justin ran a hand through Matt's lovely skin. It felt so sweet and he bit at the clothes. He clawed through them. He desperately wanted them off and when he'd torn the shirt to pieces only to expose perfect flesh…Justin just grinned.

Matt stood up, ready to fight in order to end Justin's obsession with him. "God! Justin, stop! You know I don't like any of this gay shit!"

Justin wrapped his arms around Matt's waist, resting his head onto Matt's shoulder, feeling Matt's thick black curls around him. Justin's tongue massaging Matt's neck. Confusion splattered all over Matt's face. "Justin? What are you doing…?"

Usually after that, Justin would've stopped and apologized but right now, he was driven by lust. "I need you…" Justin said, continuing to suck onto Matt's neck and Matt let out a breathless moan.

"You're married to me."

That was when Matt stared at him, and punched him straight into the face. Justin let out a loud ear-piercing groan of pain as he stared up at Matt. "You bitch!" Justin found himself pushing Matt on top of the bed where he held onto Matt's hand and brought the hand towards Matt's face.

Matt saw the ring on his finger.

It was lovely. Beautiful, but also insanely creepy…an oval that was full of tiny rubies and diamonds with one huge diamond in the center of the oval and Matt stared up at Justin's face, hyperventilating. Matt grabbed onto the ring and was about to take it off but couldn't. It was tightly secured around his finger. "Doesn't mean I'm married to you, you scary fuck! What'd you do to my finger? Put your damned ring on it?"

"Don't even try to take it off, Matty or things will be unpleasant." Justin said, stroking Matt's hair, and then kissing it softly. "Now take off your clothes."

"…no." Matt resisted, staring at him.

"That's not being a proper wife, Matthew…"

"I'm not your wife!" Matt snapped at him. "I'm not just Matt! Stop treating me like a piece of furniture! I'm not something you can just shove a ring into and claim as yours…"

"Would you like something more permanent?"

Justin grabbed onto Matt's hand and in seconds, Matt felt a slicing pain, only to see that Justin was cutting his hand. Matt just looked extremely horrified as the blood poured and Justin's lips bit down at Matt's neck…

"Take five!"

Justin and Matt pulled away at the sound of Jeff telling them to pull away. Justin grinned at that and finally Matt wiped away the fake blood that was pouring out of his hand. Justin felt Matt's arms around his neck as he kissed Justin passionately. "I love you." Matt whispered softly.

"I love you too." Justin repeated. "You taught me everything…including how to love."

"I have one more lesson for you…"

"Gross." Jeff said in disgust, moving towards the door and Shannon with his video-camera walked out with him. They were both doing a movie to kill the boredom and plus, they thought it might be a great addiction to the Hardy Show.

"And what's that…?" Justin asked, stroking Matt's hair.

"…this is how…" Matt sliced the knife through Justin's wrist, blood pooling out of his hand that it was like it would never stop. "You cut someone's hand with a knife."

"Matt…" Justin's eyes bubbled with horror. "What…?"

Matt sat onto the bed, 'don't be a big baby. That's just a stupid cut. Come and make Matt feel better…"

Justin brushed it off, taking his shirt off and tearing off a bit of cloth only to wrap it around his hand, walking towards Matt's bedside and wrapping his arms around Matt's hips, kissing him. Matt's hands were onto the bed as he moaned into Justin's kiss…

And meanwhile…a video camera that Jeff had left behind was playing.

Jeff walked inside of the room. "I forgot my bag. Excuse me." He said to the sleeping pair, Matt into Justin's arms, naked as he grabbed onto his bag and video-camera, leaving. Jeff stopped midway only to stare at the footage, and his heart started beating when he saw how much blood was seeping from Justin's hand.

"Shannon was right…Matt is a psychopath…I shouldn't have set him up with Justin…" Jeff's eyes widened. "JUSTIN!"

When Jeff turned around, he felt something pierce into his stomach and Jeff opened his eyes only to see Justin staring at him. "No…that was only because I know you were taping us…" Justin smirked. "See…Matty isn't crazy…whatever I do to Matt offset isn't so different from what's on set…and I…I will not let you stop us. Goodbye, Jeff."

And with that, Justin ran the blade one more time, killing Jeff instantly. Nothing but a bloody mess was onto the floor as he stroked Jeff's hair, kissing onto Jeff's lip. "Matt was a rebound. I always wanted just you. I pretended to go out with Matt only because I wanted to know it all, where you lived, if you were gay, what you liked, but if there's one thing I hate, it's jail…so, goodbye, Jeffy…I'll always wonder what could have been right now…" Justin winked towards the corpse before giving one last kiss.

**X Sam.**


	24. Everybody Hurts JeffPhilMorro

**XD! **_**Updating**_**. X3. I feel SO much in the writing mood…**

– _**T R I C K S**__ & T R E A T S_ –

Title: Everybody Hurts  
Summary: John Morrison cons Phil into participating into a dark experiment, promising Phil that the pain would be gone soon enough. PHILLIGAN.  
For: _Hardly Here_. KitKat! X3.

– _**T R I C K S**__ & T R E A T S_ –

Philip Brooks unclipped black extensions off his hair. It had been a while since he'd left the WWE in fury and anger. They were making him look hideous in front of all of those people, a hairless cat. Phil had shaved the rest of his body, the chest hair and the beard and his hair was very slowly growing. It had been a month since Phil started using different hair growth treatments and now, he had hair that was covering his head but nothing past his shoulders. He had to clip on extensions. He pumped into Jeff Hardy one time and didn't know what was going on but he was suddenly crying into Jeff's arms. They missing pretending to fight each other and then fucking late at night, still pretending that they were feuding…but sadly, Jeff moved on and now, he had Shannon.

Phil sighed softly, staring into the mirror. He swore never to fall in love with anyone that reminded him of Jeff, never cry and open himself up only to be hurt. He could still remember Jeff's smooth pale but tan flesh pressing against Phil's cold pale flesh. He could still remember him whispering "I love you"s in every language, in Spanish, in Japanese, in Chinese, in French, in German, in Finnish, in Dutch…every language Phil could ever think of as Jeff cradled him close and kissed onto his forehead. He could still remember waking up to those brilliant green eyes and feeling the warmth of Jeff's arms around him. He could still remember running his hand through the straight, colorful hair. It made him sad just remembering but he didn't care anymore. He had to be strong. The past was the past and yearning for it wouldn't bring it back.

Phil's extensions were onto the table now, nothing but a tuff of blonde hair, dyed black, left. Phil held his head into his hands and tried to swallow back the tears as he heard the sound of the door slowly opening and Phil jumped up in shock, only to see John Morrison, his former enemy, holding a basket of fruit into his hand as John walked towards Phil, putting the basket down and cupping his face. "Phil?" even if Phil couldn't feel them, the tears were falling down numbly, a tear-stained face instead of a fresh face and Phil was shaking in pure defeat.

"Go away," Phil said in his broken cracked voice. "Everybody hurts. Everybody feels a bit of pain every once in a while and you shouldn't pay attention to my breakup story. It's normal and stupid so just get the hell out of here."

John's hand stroked Phil's cheek. Phil remembered that day when John held him so close that Phil could smell the scent, it reminded him of Jeff. Jeff smelled like lavender and John smelled like tulips, laced with vanilla and lavender and that only brought more tears to Phil's eyes. John kissed Phil's cheek, holding him as Phil sobbed. In seconds, they were onto the bed, underneath the sheets. Phil didn't know how they got there, just that there were so many tears blurring his thoughts and wants and needs and fantasies - just a stream of water in front of adorable olive eyes.

"You don't have to be in pain."

"Everyone's in pain." Phil spat out, 'you can't stop it from happening…"

"I can make the pain stop," John promised and Phil's eyes bubbled with more unshed tears as he nodded his head. "I promise I will, Philly. You just have to trust me. Do you trust me, Punky?"

"…yes." Phil choked back a sob.

The rest of the night continued with Phil crying harder until he was asleep and into John's arms, who stroked Phil as if Phil had belonged to him. The second Phil's eyes widened open again, he found himself chained to the bed as John sat there with some sort of syringe into his hands.

"You want the pain to end, love…"

Phil's eyes widened as the syringe hit at Phil's lungs, and Phil felt the breath of him collapse. He was hyperventilating, trying to breathe even for a bit but he couldn't and then Phil's pained eyes were staring at John's and then John's lips laced with his own and Phil felt in pure ecstasy. Through the pain, it felt amazing. It felt like some sort of connection was being formed between them and Phil found himself falling deep into happiness with John around.

Then it was all black for some time…

When Phil slowly opened his eyes, he felt a trickle of water fall. And he was unchained from the bed post but the irritated red marks around his wrists indicated that that was no dream. He turned around to see if John was around, only to find him standing there, sipping a cup of coffee. "Hello, _Schatje_."

"Dutch?" Phil asked as John nodded his head. Phil sat up and his entire body paled when he looked down at what used to be himself. He was wearing a skirt instead of pants, because a pair of pants would suffocate a graceful, elegant gray-black tail whipping out of Phil's ass and Phil stared at the mirror, only to find cat ears staring back at him, along with adorable little kitten whiskers. His nose was pinker than usual. Phil moved towards John and crawled towards him, his eyes burning with pain. "Why?"

John's hand stroked Phil's ear, and Phil found so much pleasure in that as John's lips wrapped around Phil's lower lip, 'he will never hurt you." John said, curling Phil up into John's arms.

"What?"

"…Jeff…he loves you…" John said, planting kisses all over Phil's neck, 'but I'll never have him have you. Not you, you're my adorable little Phillycat. He's not touching you. Never again."

"He…he loves me…?" there was so much joy into Phil's voice.

"But he can't love you now. If there's anything Jeff despises, it's cats and you…you're my adorable little Phillycat. Not his anymore." John said, continuing to kiss all over Phil's neck and cheek, adorning his little pet with kisses, love and affection. The doorbell rang as John said a quick "come in!"

"No!" Phil screeched in anger. "Don't!"

"Philly…is that you, babe? I got you some chocolate and roses. Just to say I'm sorry. I never meant to break up with you, baby!"

Jeff.

Phil's face was enlightened but John Morrison shoved Phil towards the door, making him lock it as John brought out a knife from his pocket, allowing it to slowly touch Phil's neck. Phil's breathing decreased as John kissed Phil's neck. "I love you." John said in all truthfulness. "I've always fucking loved you…from the first day you came into the WWE, with those beautiful eyes of yours…you stole the show. You made everyone wonder about you. All I wanted to do was hold that silky hair into my hands and stare into your astounding olive eyes forever. All I wanted to do was to run my tongue against the pale flesh of you…I wanted you so bad. It made me go insane and I'm not letting you go to anyone."

John dipped Phil and kissed him and for once, Phil's arms wrapped around John's as the door snapped open and Jeff stood there in pure horror. John launched onto Jeff, stabbing him repeatedly in the stomach. "Phil…?" Jeff felt red dots near his eyes, not caring about the pain. Just scanning around for Phil.

"Philly…?"

Phil approached the dying Jeff as John continued to hurt him more. Phil's body shook and his eyes widened with horror.

"Oh look at that…my little Philly is a kitty cat… come here, kitty kitty…come give me a kiss…" Jeff said, almost in a drunk-like state and with one more thrust of the knife, Jeff's eyelids snapped shut. John, in a fit of fury, shook his head and grabbed onto a handful of blonde/blue hair.

"No! You can't die, you bitch! I didn't even do anything to you yet!" John grabbed onto the eyelid and tore it off, squeezing onto the eyeball too tightly that blood seeped from his hand, there was nothing of the gray-white eyeball anymore, just bits of it and a lot of blood. Jeff was dead for sure and John let go of his face so he fell towards the floor. Phil stepped away in pure horror as John looked up at him with a sick little smirk on his face as he grabbed onto Phil's body and kissed him roughly and Phil felt the pure roughness of the kiss alone.

"I love you, Schatje."

Phil was staring at his dead lover. "Baby…" he was staring straight at Jeff, tears cascading all in all from his eyes. His…his beautiful Jeff…dead and gone…when he loved him so much. Phil turned around to face John who laced their lips together into a chaste kiss. Phil felt furious, angry but all that just melted into John's arms. He was melting into the arms of the man who killed his lover.

And it didn't matter anymore.

"You're the only one that could love me…" Phil whispered, as John stroked Phil's ear. Nobody else would love him. John was all he had right now. He didn't have anyone else anymore. And so, Phil took one more look over at his dead Jeff, and then back at John, allowing John to hold him tightly.

"Schatje." John said, twirling his finger around Phil's hair.

Phil stared at him. This was the man who loved him so bad he'd hurt the person he loved…and yet, Phil didn't care. His arms were around John's neck and they were just kissing for moments on end. Phil found himself onto his bed and John was holding him tightly, stroking between his ears and kissing the back of his neck.

"He was going to kill you." John suddenly said. "His type of love is sick and twisted."

Phil's eyes burned with anger. "You kill him right before my eyes and then you tell me that he wants to kill me? I tried coping with this, John…I tried it all but apparently, you just have to make this one ounce of love I still harbor for Jeff go away. What next, John? What are you gonna get out of making me hate the only man I've ever loved…?"

John reached out for Phil's hand but Phil turned away, walking out of the lobby, not caring who was staring at him. "Phillycat! It's dangerous out there!"

The rain fell roughly and Phil didn't care. He stepped out into it, getting soaked by the cold water and John followed him. In a pace, Phil ran, trying to get away from John. Phil bumped into another body into the rain, Matt's and that was when both of their eyes connected. Phil allowed tears to cascade down his cheeks. "Matt…hide…me…p-please…"

Matt did hide him in the back of his car, both of them looking at each other confused. Phil stayed there for about fifteen minutes before deciding that John was probably gone but before he could get out, Matt grabbed onto his wrist and looked at him. "Where's Jeff?"

Phil sniffled once last time. "John…killed him…he s-said…that Jeff…was g-gonna kill me…"

Matt's eyes turned into liquid pools of pain as he curled Phil towards him, kissing onto his nose into some sort of gesture that Jeff would've done. "Hey, listen, here, Punk," Matt said, calling him by his stage name as he was used to. "…you might not realize this but Jeff was going to kill you. He planned it all out. He loves you…and he doesn't want to love you. He wants to love Beth. He wants to be with her. He doesn't want you, sweetheart. And it's not his fault that he can't find any pride in your love. He was going to kill you and I tried to stop him but he hit me right into my stomach and shoved a knife right through my shoulder. Jeff is a mental case. He's better…off dead."

The words hurt to be said but they were the truth. The next moments were just tears running down Matt's eyes, 'God, he's my only brother, the only thing that kept me steady…I really do love him but he could've killed us both to just forget about you. He would kill us all if it means forgetting you and how ashamed he was being in love with you…God, I'm sorry, Phil."

"John…" Phil whispered under his breath. "I guess I need to get back to him right now."

Matt nodded, stroking Phil's hair for once and then saying something very inaudible into Phil's ears. Phil turned around and got out of the car, looking around for John. He heard the shriek of anger not so far from here. Phil ran towards it, and saw John being held by a strong man by his shirt. "Huh, who said you can test my formula on a human? You want someone to look like a cat-freak?"

John turned around to look at Phil, both of their eyes connecting in a second. The man looked over at Phil, smirking. "Oh, look, lunch."

Phil grabbed onto John's hand and ran off, trying to get away from him. They ran into a deep forest just because it was the nearest thing into Phil's sight. Phil turned around for a moment to see if anyone was behind him and even if he couldn't see anything, he still kept on running until he fell over a twig. Phil and John's eyes met, as Phil fell on top of John. John's lips pressed against Phil's in a lovable manner. "I didn't want him to kill you. You're too precious to me."

Phil blinked once and once again. The rain still falling swiftly and even soaked and drenched, a smile was shared between both of them as their lips connected into bitter pain. Phil lost Jeff, even if Jeff was going to kill him and John just felt the pure love into Phil's kiss, the love that was there for Jeff and never him. John watched as Phil opened his eyes.

"Do you want me to reunite you with Jeff…?" John asked.

Phil nodded his head. Tears springing from his eyes. "Please, John…I know you love me too but my place…even when he was about to kill me…was always made for him…I wanted to finish what he started. Please."

"Schatje, I love you." John said, slowly stroking Phil's hair.

Not an "I love you too" escaped out of Phil's mouth because it wasn't true. John pulled out a little knife from his pocket, hearing Phil inhale deeply and then there was just tears, blood and a smile on Phil's face as the blood continued to pour from his heart. "Schatje…" John spoke into Phil's ear.

"My Schatje…"

Another heart-wrenching sob.

"My Schatje is happy…not everybody h-h-has t-to…" John said, sobbing as he watched the delight dance upon Phil's face. "Not everyone has to hurt…"

**LOVE.**

**X Sam.**


	25. Angel ShannonBrian

***SIGHS* at 2:32 AM, and what do I want to do? FINISH THIS. FOR WHO? KITKAT. Imma do mah other requests soon, dahlies. Wait up.**

* * *

Title: Angel  
Summary: Brian Kendrick/Shannon Moore. I love KitKat enough to do this because in Sam's world, Shannon is an ultimate SUB. NEVER a DOM.  
For: _KitKat_

* * *

Brian Kendrick didn't care much for cathedrals or churches or the Bible or any of that, maybe because he didn't believe in anything but himself. He was the one that controlled what he did and the world twisted into coincidences, not "fate" and the world had no "love". That was the way that Brian worked.

He was a Christian, yes, but struggling to breathe at those dead end of nights, with sweats dripping down his back, choking tears back into his eyes and the heavy pain that banged his chest over and over again, he wouldn't know how to describe it but it was almost like the pain was snapping him back into reality, that there was no way out other than being strong and he was strong and being strong helped him get what he wanted.

All he wanted was a picture.

Just one picture.

He was given that picture in his head. It sounded stupid and odd and confusing but all Brian Kendrick wanted was for someone to draw for him. That was his only wish every Christmas, on every birthday cake he blew on, the soft wax that melted in the candle also melted Brian's hope. This was all he wanted but he didn't want to ask, he just wanted someone to just automatically do it, just for him. It didn't have to be Leonardo Da Vinci's best work, he just wanted a little drawing, didn't even have to be a real pretty one - just a drawing made of scribbles or doodles.

Brian Kendrick drew a picture every night himself, and sent it to himself, along with a rose attached to it, just to make his insides quiver with some sort of joy but it didn't happen.

He wanted to believe in something.

He wanted to believe that someone could actually send him a picture just like that, with the little pretty doodles in vivid colors and the words that said 'I love you' or 'you're the best' or really just anything…it didn't even have to be of anything. He just wanted someone to love him enough to draw for him. He'd made it very clear when in dates, he'd just get out a sketchpad and scribble, talking about fake fantasies of wanting love and affection when in truth,, he didn't believe in love.

He believed in art.

He believed that what was behind wobbly lines of art hid behind some sort of faith for him. He didn't know how to say it but wrestling was some sort of art, some sort of dance for him, the violence, the acting, the fake intimacy he had and he loved every second of it. It made him have something to believe him but slowly and slowly, that art wasn't going enough for Brian, oh no.

But Shannon…

Shannon Moore was made of art. His face painted and his hair and the way his body moved, almost in the adorable sort of way, almost as if he was dancing on air other than wrestling and Brian, even though through all the storylines he did with or without Shannon, he admired Shannon's astounding body, his beautiful green eyes, blonde hair made of silk and pale flesh and maybe that was what made Brian die a little on the inside.

Shannon was art. He was some sort of prize, some sort of painting to Brian.

And it was like tainting red on a beautiful painting. Every time he kept cameras hidden when Shannon would undress, maybe it was a bit obsessive but Shannon was all of Brian's hope. He was his art…maybe he started dying when the cuts started appearing, more and more on his body, almost as if he was adorning himself in red, leaving nothing of his smooth flesh.

His hope was crushed.

How could something so beautiful be broken like that…?

Brian wanted to try it himself, to see why his little obsession would ever think of tainting that beautiful flesh of his, but he always restrained himself. He did believe in God but just not enough anymore. He lost faith in what he could do and all dependent on Shannon, on Shannon's beauty to be more precise. He was some sort of figure carved out of hope and Brian clung to that, but there was no more beauty anymore…

Nothing to cling on.

So Brian laid down, on the bed, watching tapes of Shannon undressing, and then nothing mattered anymore, as he cried himself to sleep because the prettiest thing he'd ever seen, the only thing that he'd ever thought of as beautiful, was being destroyed and the world was burning black once more, a darkness of nothing, just nothing, not even blackness anymore. He was lost in pain and the pain just burned and burned.

How could something so beautiful be so tainted…?

It was like Leonardo Da Vinci painting a moustache on the Mona Lisa, like Michelangelo painting the chapel he'd worked so hard on in black because he didn't believe that religious figures should be there, but just an abyss of black, it was like a slow, painful death for Brian. He was insane, he'd known it, but he just didn't know why he found such comfort in Shannon's image.

There were models and beautiful people all around but there was just something that was so utterly Shannon that made Brian's heart bleed so much on the inside. It was like a blind man seeing the sun for the first time, as if getting high on nature…when he was looking at Shannon, it was like he was drunk, just mindlessly in some sort of ecstasy.

Shannon was his obsession, and he long wanted to be held by those arms of beauty that he could only dream to touch - but now, his art was ruined, nothing left to turn to and nothing left for him to believe in.

Maybe that was when he started going to church again. He wanted to believe in something, anything, in love, in hope, in faith, in rejoice, but nothing happened but him sitting down in a holy environment, feeling filthy and then he'd seen his Shannon walk and sit right beside him, scrunching his nose in that adorable sort of way and Brian just stared, just struck by pain, knowing what was underneath the fabric that Shannon wore.

Brian resisted the urge to grab a gun and blow his brains out. He was sitting next to the cocaine he'd wanted so bad but wanting had left him in pain and agony, striving for nothing but another hope. Shannon just walked out, saying a simple "bye" before he left. Nothing more.

But all that time that Brian was sitting beside Shannon, Brian realized that Shannon was ruining his life and Shannon had no clue about it. It was tearing him apart, eating him on the inside and killing him so slowly…Brian was in pure pain and all because he couldn't have his Shannon, his art, his prize, the one that he'd grasped on before, a strip of rainbow in the void of nothingness he lived in.

Then at the dead end of the night, just as Brian was about to go home, he heard it all.

"I bet you can't fucking top anyone, Shanny."

Maybe it was of anger and of spite, but Shannon grabbed onto Brian's shoulders, and pushed him up the wall and their lips connected in this sort of rough way and Brian was just so shaken, trying to remember beauty and fuck the pain away but God, it was so hard. He tried to focus on the kiss but couldn't and Shannon just shrugged, in his hooker heels and his itty bitty tiny black clothing and just as Shannon was about to leave, Brian grabbed onto Shannon's hand hard.

"Why do you go to church?" that was the only question that seemed to slip out of Brian's mouth.

Shannon turned around, the white blonde hair burning with sweat of tonight's activities already.

"You're a fucking prostitute."

"I'm not." Shannon denied it at first, shaking his shoulders and rocking his hips in this sort of seductive way and licking his lips in this "oh so I'm not innocent" sort of way and Brian just stared at him and wanted to know why he'd let people see the massacre that was Shannon's body.

Brian touched at the cuts that were around Shannon's shoulders and Shannon just stared at him with a hard glare. The cuts just adorned his body, ruining every piece of smooth pale flesh.

Brian just stared.

"Done looking?" Shannon scolded coldly.

Brian nodded his head, just looking at Shannon's eyes, almost a cry for help and Brian mirrored Shannon's eyes. Shannon was about to leave when Brian grabbed Shannon's wrist and looked straight at him. "Why?" Brian said, his voice was hard and painful. "Why the cuts, Shannon?"

"They're holy." Shannon said, almost as if Brian was asking him an insane question.

"…holy?" Brian was confused.

"You don't go to church that much," Shannon said as if he was telling him a story. "My parents think I'm blessed because all the kids that were born in the ward I was born in died the same night they were born, except me. I wasn't. I wasn't massacred. I was 'sent' and the church…the church thought so but the wife of the priest wasn't actually convinced. She asked me if I believed in God and I told her I did but I didn't care for my sins.

"She told me that she'd fix me. That she'd punish the sins out of my body. She cut me. She slashed me so bad, in shapes that were too painful for my liking but every cut meant something about the church and when I woke up like that, claiming that I was being marked by an angel…then the Father organized this sort of thing for me, where people who had cancer and were in pain, just came to me and I'd bless them. Almost as if I was giving them a blessing…"

"Then what the fuck are you doing?" Brian asked, staring at Shannon, 'if you're trying to keep that image, then why are you doing this?"

Shannon looked down at the floor. "I'm fucking nothing. I'm not some sort of angel sent by God, _I'm not_. I'm just a normal blonde that gives blow jobs right now and that makes me happy. It makes me happy knowing that I'm playing the part that I should be, not a wrestler, not part of a church but a whore. I'm just a slut in the end and you fucking know that already."

Brian was dazed and Shannon's words snipped at his heart badly.

"I'm not an angel." Shannon repeated, lacing his lips with Brian, wrapping his arms around Brian's waist as tightly as he could. "I'm barely anything so come on, Brian. I'll go back to your place and get drunk and we can fucking do it."

"Are you…high?" Brian asked, almost tasting the bitterness of the cocaine that was in Shannon's lips.

Shannon just grinned and dragged Brian off towards his car. Brian sat there, dazed, in pain for some reason but there was still giddiness - he just didn't want to see the reality of the damage of Shannon's cuts. He couldn't dare face those. Though he still let Shannon drive him back to their hotel, gave him the passkey and Shannon purred into his ears, smirking and pushing his hand into Brian's pants in the elevator.

Brian couldn't feel anything but pain afterwards.

Not the sex.

Just the thought of Shannon's body being so broken. Maybe at midpoint Shannon stopped only to say, 'you're not enjoying this."

Brian just stared at him and nodded his head. He didn't lie.

"So I was _raping _you?" Shannon asked, so disgusted with the idea as Brian wrapped his arms around Shannon who was instead of on top of him, right beside him in bed. He tried to feel some sort of affection for him but the art…it just disgusted him so badly.

"How does it feel like…to be raped?" Shannon burped after the question.

"You didn't rape me, Shan. It just isn't the time for me," Brian tried to cajole him, 'and besides, you stopped. I didn't even tell you to stop even once."

"You're so nice. I didn't get to know you off set," Shannon said, turning his back on Brian, so that Brian was cuddling towards Shannon's back, feeling the warmth of the flesh and he could almost smell the hint of lotion that Shannon had used, some sort of faint strawberry and lemonade scent maybe… "and I fucking raped you."

"You did not."

"I wanna be raped."

That was what caused Brian's eyes to widen with some sort of confusion and anger and horror.

"Well, goodnight, Bry."

Brian felt Shannon's breathing turn even more relaxed, their naked bodies pressed against each other and Shannon's confusion to where he was the other morning caused Brian to just shrug and look at him. "You were high, saying something about the wife of a priest cutting you so that people would think that those were sent from God or something and then saying that you were nothing but a whore and wanted me to bed you. I just didn't seem to enjoy it so you stopped midway and we fell asleep. You thought you rape-"

"I raped you." Shannon spat out.

"No!"

"I raped you…"

That was when Brian tilted Shannon's chin so that they were both staring at each other.

"You," Brian took a deep breath, 'you told me that you wanted to get raped yesterday."

"I spilled my biggest secrets to you," Shannon shrugged. "Nobody knows that I don't believe in myself, that I think I'm a whore and I fucking raped you, Brian! Why in hell's name are you talking to me? Take me to the police or something! I don't-"

"You see what you're fucking doing to yourself?" Brian suddenly spat out, his body trembling with some sort of pain. "You're hurting me and you're hurting your fucking self. You just want to report a rape to get stuck in jail and die there and I'm betting that she believes in you and you're the one who slashes yourself…"

"I like slashing myself, okay? I don't ask you what you like to do!" Shannon screeched aloud.

"I…I…"

Brian was stammering as he walked towards the VCR, plugging in a video of Shannon showering with the cuts that adorned his body along with the tattoos but Brian admired the tattoos, they were Shannon's passion, he just hated to see the flesh be so demarked by blood…and Shannon's eyes widened, and he felt some sort of betrayal sink into his body.

"What the hell…?" Shannon asked.

"You said your secrets and I'll tell you mine." Brian said softly, moving towards him and sitting right beside him. "I'm nothing more than you think I am either, Shanny…I really do want to die looking at your body. Because it was so beautiful and you're ruining it…you're putting all this pressure on your body. You don't wanna break the faith for anyone, you want to give them hope…you give me so much hope…and then I watched it break right in front of my eyes. You ruined me. And I…"

Brian bit down his lower lip. He can't say this. "You're my angel, Shannon."

Shannon just sat upright. "I'm not holy. I'm not brought upon from the heavens or anything. I'm a ho that's drunk half the time, cuts himself and is on drugs…when will you people get it? Do you think my probable STD's are holy too?"

Brian just stared at him. "You're my angel…" he just repeated but that was it, nothing was left in him, he was in pure pain and crushed into itty bitty pieces and he just wanted to try and fix that mistake but he couldn't.

Shannon really was Brian's angel.

"I wanted you to stay beautiful," Brian whispered in some sort of softness. "I guess I sort of believed in love and faith and all that crap when I looked at you…because you were so out of this world, so…not average, just looking at you gave me something to hold onto…and that's why I needed to see you naked. Beauty is all the more beautiful in its form but then the cutting…it cut me too. It killed me on the inside…I'm fucking dead…"

Shannon shook his head. "I'm not an angel."

Brian wrapped his arms around Shannon's neck tightly. "You give me hope…please…give me hope…please…"

He didn't know why he felt so weak.

Shannon just pulled him away and left him and that broke Brian's heart into little pieces.

In the middle of church next time, Shannon just watched as Brian tried to comfort a Mother about circumcising her son and for some reason, words just slipped out of Brian's mouth in some sort of pain and fury that pooled against his chest. "He's doing this because he feels fucking sorry for you." Brian suddenly told the woman. "You're nothing to him."

He turned towards the audience, so many people in church, all looking for hope and some sort of faith. "You come to him and he touches you and tells you good stuff…he always does this! He's nothing! Really, he isn't! He even claimed himself to be nothing but a whore and he thinks he raped me…he just wants to cut himself. He just wants some sort of reason to finally pull the trigger. He just can't do it himself without some sort of reason for the sudden death he's going to give himself."

Shannon looked over at Brian's direction. Brian looked back and Shannon's eyes bubbled with fury. "You bitch!"

Brian did nothing more but stand as Shannon pounced on top of him and tore off his hair.

"Tell us all why'd you lie to everyone, Shanny!"

"Because I want to make people happy…that's all I ever wanted to fucking do!" Shannon exclaimed, punching a hit right at Brian's stomach, causing Brian to screech in pain. "I wanted my parents to love me! I wanted to give people hope and faith and love but I can't fucking do that! I'm not an angel. I've never been one…I'm not touched by angels…I just like cutting myself. I'm nothing more than one of those psychos at a mental ward."

Brian stared at him and Shannon just stared back.

The pain reflected…

"You were always my angel." Brian whispered softly.

Shannon just stood up and walked off.

"You don't have to live a lie anymore, Shannon. I know it killed you on the inside, making all these people think you're something you're not but you still just want to make them happy…but… I don't want you to. I want you to be Shannon, my art, my creation, made for only me. I'm selfish and I don't really care. I want you. I need you…"

Shannon turned around to look into Brian's eyes.

"I love you…"

"Your sad angel wings make me so happy…" Brian said, his eyes in swollen pride.

Shannon grabbed onto a razor from his pocket and took off his shirt and Brian stared in some sort of horror. Brian felt Shannon grab onto his wrists and Shannon slit them, causing Brian to wince at the pain…Shannon tore off his shirt, grabbing onto Brian's face and kissing him as roughly as he could.

_Another sin, Shanny, you're not doing very good._

Shannon didn't care. He just continued to kiss him, with the blood seeping from his body, and the pain banging into his heart and then Shannon slashed again, right on his chest, writing Brian's name and then writing Shannon's name onto Brian's chest, grabbing onto Brian's body, he fell down and held him tightly.

Brian was hyperventilating on top of Shannon, who was holding him so tightly, as if he was afraid of letting go. "I'm no angel, I'm no angel…" Shannon repeated. "I'm a rapist. I'm a murder. I deserve to fucking die but I'm not leaving you…because I'm a damned psycho and I want you to die with me."

"…I love you…" Brian whispered.

Shannon just stared into Brian's eyes. "And my sad little angel wings will take you away…" another one last kiss, and their lips parted and they were dead, but Shannon still had a grin of satisfaction playing across those lips. Because in Brian's heart, Shannon had and always would be Brian's insane beautiful angel…

_I don't care about sinning. My sins are all beautiful._

**

* * *

**

X Sam.


	26. Dry Your Eyes JeffHunterKane

**Yay!**

* * *

Title: Dry Your Eyes  
Summary: Jeff/Hunter/Kane.  
For: kaleidoscopic-blamelessness

* * *

Jeff Hardy was in an affair with Hunter, who was married to Glenn Jacobs, or better known as "Kane".

Jeff took off his hat so that his colorful hair flowed through as he waited for Hunter. Hunter was going to be done talking to Kane in moments now and he'd come out there and Hunter would say that he needed to go drink with him. Kane thought they were just drinking buddies. Hunter came towards him, and they both fled towards the car, and the first thing that Jeff did was take off his shirt, so that the moonlight dabbed across his flesh and Jeff batted those eyelashes, staring at Hunter. Hunter's arms were around Jeff and they kissed for a moment, tossing around kisses before Jeff blinked.

"…you know…" Jeff whispered, 'you're not the first married man I was with." Jeff winked.

"Yeah?" Hunter continued to kiss his neck, pampering him with kisses then just stopping. "Okay, I came out tonight because I wanted to stop this but I clearly can't! You're some sort of addiction to me and…you're ruining my marriage! I'm sorry, Jeff, but I want you to leave. It's as hard for me as it is for you…"

"You'll be sorry," Jeff said, in a low voice. "You'll be-"

Just as Jeff was about to leave, he bumped into another body, Kane's out of the way and Hunter walked towards him and Jeff, grabbing onto Jeff's bare arms, watching Kane scrunch his nose up in fury, his hands balled into fists as he grabbed onto Jeff's hands and pulled him away from Hunter's car and into Kane and Hunter's house.

Hunter just followed. "Glenn…babe…"

"Don't you dare say a fucking word!" Kane snapped, forcing Jeff to stand near a wall while he searched for the objects he wanted to look for and in seconds, Jeff was cuffed from the hands and the feet and Kane grabbed onto his left wrist, throwing him towards the counter, his head hitting against the cold, hard marble and Jeff stared at Kane. "Why the fuck do you do this, you slut?"

Jeff just stared at him with wide, shocked eyes. "I…um…"

Kane surfed through the drawers for a knife as Hunter dropped towards Jeff, staring up at Kane. "Glenn, babe, this is crazy!"

"I'm holding a knife and I'm not afraid to kill you with it," Kane snapped. "This is what my brother taught me, how things are supposed to be done and I don't give a fuck about what you or your little prostitute say so just…just…answer me! ANSWER ME, YOU LITTLE BITCH! Tell me why you fucking get into people's marriages and RUIN them, huh?"

Jeff stared down at his lap and curled as Hunter held onto Jeff's waist as if some sort of comfort to him. "

"ANSWER…ME…" Kane stabbed Jeff's ankle, knowing that the spot was sensitive and did the other one, slashing it as quickly as possible and watching the blood drip on his clean floor.

Jeff was hyperventilating and looking over at Kane, before he looked down and then the words just fell from his mouth. "I love…I love…" Jeff just stopped to take one big breath before he replied. "I LOVE the thrill of it. I love being thought of as attractive to a married man…I…my brother used to have an affair with me from his wife, and I felt so beautiful. Like I'm something that's worth the trouble…"

"Beauty?" Kane laughed as he grabbed onto Jeff's hand and pulled him up, forcing him to stand up straight as he inched closer and Hunter kept his arms around Jeff's waist, as if protecting him from harm's way but the pain in Jeff's feet made him want to fall. Kane grabbed onto Jeff's hair, and sliced it with the knife in his hands, smacking the back of Jeff's neck with the tip of the knife and Kane went on even though Jeff was whimpering.

"Don't hurt me…" Jeff was whispering. "God…I'm so…sorry…p-please…I'll give you anything! Just don't do anything to me! I'm just…I just…I'm so sorry, Kane…Glenn…please…just don't do this to me…"

Kane chopped Jeff's hair until it was in a horrendous style, grabbing onto his hand and forcing him outside again, throwing him onto the floor and holding onto a tuft of ruined hair. Kane smeared Jeff's face with filth, making sure that his face was full of it as Kane slapped him as hard as ever. He took off Jeff's cuffs and made small deep cuts around his wrist, moving his way up, and slicing in deeper and deeper into his arm, sure that Jeff's arms would have permanent scars. Kane hit Jeff into the stomach repeatedly before removing the cuffs that bound his legs.

Jeff curled up into a ball.

"I'll finish you tomorrow." Kane snarled, leaving both Jeff and Hunter alone.

Hunter leaned down towards him and wiped away some filth off Jeff's face, looking into his pained green eyes that were bubbling with tears. "I…I…I love Matty…" Jeff was shaking. "I…I cheat on people because I love Matty and he doesn't love me and cheating made me get him…if I cheat on people, I get Matty…and Matt pays attention on me…and I get happy…"

Jeff said the last bit with a shaking voice. "I get so happy when his arms are around me and he holds me and tells me that having affairs is wrong and that they're married and I'm in no way to step into that…and then he goes to Amy and kisses her and my heart's broken all over again and I need the sex, to pretend that they're Matty…in any way…I want…to be happy…I want…happiness…I wanna get happy…but the happy pills don't work and Matt…Matt doesn't love me."

Jeff slid a ring off his finger. "That's Amy's ring. I stole it…just to wear it for one night…to pretend that I'm her…happy…in love…" Jeff sniffed a few moments, tears burning down his eyes.

"I love him."

Hunter held him tightly, watching Jeff cry. "And he loves me." Hunter whispered. "Kane loves me and I love him and I never should've let you…come in like this…and take me…it made my love for him weak and he'll never take me back right now. I've always loved Kane, from the second that we were together but when you're around, I just forget that Kane ever existed. I love you both so badly and it hurts to see both of you hurt so bad…"

Hunter took another deep breath. "And…you're bleeding…"

Jeff wasn't shocked as he looked up at Hunter's face. Hunter wiped away the blood off Jeff's face. "You're bleeding from your eyes."

Jeff just laughed. "Just forget it."

"No!" Hunter exclaimed, staring into Jeff's eye sockets which were red and the blood just continued to pour out of his eyes, along with a white thick liquid. "Dry your eyes, Jeff."

"Let me bleed out all my blood, everything in me…" Jeff whispered, giggling and lying down onto the ground. "I'm not pretty anymore…my blood's ugly…my heart's ugly… I'm ugly…Kane made me see what hideousness lies underneath all that sex and make up and pretty hair that covered my eyes. He made me see… that…"

"Are you done yet?" Kane asked, spitting out. "Finish this mushy fest!"

Hunter looked at Kane and nodded his head. "Right now, baby." He looked over at Jeff, heart-broken. "I need to go…but…Kane! I need to take him to the hospital! Fucking look at him! He's bleeding from his eye sockets!"

Kane was staring at Jeff. "That's normally for you, isn't it?"

Jeff nodded his head, whimpering at the pain that was going through his body. "It…it happens…r-randomly sometimes…"

Kane was walking towards him and tipping his chin up, staring into his eyes. "Lovely little Matty still comes to Jeff sometimes, and he'd be drunk and he'd rape our little Jeff and then punch him in the face and cause a fracture into his face and then he'd sleep next to him, making him feel worthless on the inside because Jeff never thought he was pretty until he could land all those married guys into bed…this is just your sick way of coping." Kane let go of Jeff's face and Jeff looked down with the blood pouring down his eyes.

Jeff rubbed his eyes and shook.

"Let's go, Hunter."

"But…he needs a hospital…"

"Let's go!"

Hunter followed Kane back into the room, leaving Jeff all alone and pained, into the filth to sleep, unable to move because of the pain into his ankles and unable to feel anything but the pure Hell that his body was going through and then, just then, Jeff felt himself able to move just a bit…

That morning, Hunter opened his eyes only to see that Kane wasn't there but was taking a shower. Hunter looked at the clock and saw that it was unusually early for Kane to be up and decided to go see if Jeff was still there, hoping not to but the sight that Hunter saw made his heart jump start.

Jeff was lying onto the ground, dead.

Hunter heard Kane walk downstairs with a towel on. "Hmm?"

"…you…you fucking killed him!" Hunter exclaimed, his eyes widened but Kane slowly walked over to Jeff, wiping away a bit of hair to show a weak smile and Kane just knew instantly, that little Jeff, wasn't dead because of Kane, and that caused Kane's eyes to bubble with some sort of sadness, knowing that little Jeff finally broke that night - and killed himself.

**X Sam.**


	27. A Day To Be Alone Part 1 MarkBrian

_**A Day to Be Alone - One Less Reason.**_

**I have doubts about KitKat liking that song but I don't care. XD. It's the fic that counts the moore. *huggles KitKat!***

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Title: A Day To Be Alone  
Summary: zombies were extremely strong and ruling the Earth…then there was Mark Calaway, a vampire whose willing to overthrow all zombies but has to face his dead  
For: _KitKat_.

* * *

_Friday's Afternoon_

It was cool.

I suppose it was always cool in the afternoon.

I was Mark Calaway, sitting down onto the porch, a vampire who was making vampire-like humans, twisting their heads into thinking that they were vampires, enough to make them able to raise my army, to fight against the zombies. They haven't found me yet…I was the only survivor and I wasn't even human.

I remembered watching my Brian, lying onto the bed, crying, dying, with pain into every core of his being as he died into my arms. I remembered the last few months when it hurt so bad to speak but before he died, he was slurring a few words that I couldn't listen to.

I still regret not listening well enough.

I didn't even know that he'd die right then…and the last words he'd said, I didn't even hear. I remembered picking up our beautiful little girl, Gwendolyn, afterwards and telling her that her little Mommy was sleeping and that Brian can't wake up for a while right now. About a month afterwards, she died too. Brian and Gwendolyn had the same disease that was going around and I was somehow immune to it, probably because of my vampirism…then with Gwendolyn cradled into my arms, my dead girl, I buried her next to her loved Mother.

And my heart was just swollen with pain that thudded and panged every time a memory over washed my head. Everything just reminded them so well of them, when I was in bed, I could almost feel Brian's thin body beside me, tiny and adorable, his blonde hair whipped in front of his face and a smile playing onto his pink lips as he held the pillow tightly. The night air cradling him sweetly. When I was out, I could remember the way Brian's eyes glittered as he held our little girl and looked around, with the sunshine beaming across his eyes so that they were a thousand times brighter.

When I was sitting down onto the couch, I only longed for his body to press against mine, his fuzzy blanket touching my flesh and drool seeping out of his mouth. How I've longed fr that…to touch him, to feel him, to be with him again. Gwendolyn just made the pain stab harder, leave a deeper hole and let the remorse and loneliness sink in harder than ever before.

Then there was a zombie epidemic.

They were dead people who risen from the dead because they didn't need to, no, those were ghosts. They were summoned, all from this virus, they summoned each other, all together - they had the force to break the laws of physics by signals signs to each other dead to get out of their grave and be able to open their eyes once more. This was not happy news since the zombies had been drained of love and affection and were left with nothing but pain and vengeance. They were powered by thirst to kill and destroy and I…I was a survivor. I was a vampire, building a breed of vampires to destroy them…our teeth ripped through the zombie flesh too easily, and our speed made it even better, since the kills would be faster.

No humans at all. Just nothing.

I stroked one of my vampires' face, Jeff blinked up at me for a moment before he licked my hand. You may have wondered what source of blood I used. Well, now, it was animals. Before, they were tastier treats and substitutes but now, nothing. Jeff would sometimes pry open his own brother's wounds to drink blood from them. Matt was a Testafie, full of artificial blood and artificial flesh, almost human but so weak that he couldn't even move half the time. Because of his weakened stature, Jeff drank from him. The artificial blood just made them stronger…and Matt was Jeff's Testafie.

The two strongest vampires I ever did make were Jeff and John Morrison. John had drunken from Phil. Phil was the only Testafie that was strong enough to actually respond to the feeding. Of course, I did feel sorry. Phil was a creation made of artificial flesh, animal and artificial blood, and organs from corpses. He was strong enough to be able to move 30 minutes a day but all the blood drained from him was only allowed him to crawl for a few minutes before collapsing with tears running down his eyes.

I recreated my Testafies and vampires from real life people and they knew they were just figments of my memories. They didn't know how much they meant to me in truth. I heard Adam walk into the room with a very weak body into his hands. A pure human. I carried him into my arms and sat him down. Oh God. _Punk_. The real one.

I only called him Punk to differentiate between Punk and Phil. Phil was my Testafie and Punk was the real deal, the real…flesh and blood, still barely breathing. Zombies didn't need to breathe so bad but Punk was struggling. His flesh was so real, so very real…I haven't seen a human in so long. He was precious to the world, to the recreation of humans after we finish these monsters…these zombies…

Phil was still asleep and John was looking at him with lusty eyes.

"No, John, not this one. Punk is important and Phil is sleeping. You'll just have to wait." John was used to seeing Phil as some sort of thing to drink of and now, Punk looked alike to him… I had to keep John away. I can't let him drain away the last bit of blood from Phil and I need just a paper cut, for Punk to bleed… I gave just the smallest paper cut so that he'd bleed. I put that into a vile and stared at it.

Real. Human. Blood.

It seemed like heaven.

I kissed the vile and looked down at Punk. I put the vile into my pants, and I took my lovely little Punk into my arms…human and alive… and took him upstairs. I haven't been upstairs since Brian's death. I couldn't. Gwendolyn lived downstairs in my lab and I haven't left there…well, only to see the afternoon sky anyways.

That was me and Brian's favorite pastime.

I told him I wanted to marry him underneath the sweet colorful afternoon, with the blushing Autumn sunshine burning through his face. I loved him so, I loved picking him up, and with the sun wasn't too hot, it made me appreciate the light softly lapping against the fields of green, the way it hit against the beautiful hazel eyes of his.

I felt so empty without him.

As I took Punk upstairs, I laid him onto me and Brian's bed. I blinked a few times to register that this place was real, that Brian used to be once breathing and living on this thing - the late nights when we were drenched in sweat, love and sweet suffice. I ran my finger across Punk's face…

Real.

The human race was real.

I went to go get some IV. The human body can't survive long without food or water so Punk had been striving to get some sort of food inside of him. I pumped him up with IV and saw how dry his skin was. I put a bottle of water so just in case he woke up, he'd drink some. He hadn't been out for long I realize. Maybe and hour or so and he probably blacked out from starvation.

I realized that his stomach was eating himself right then. He was so thin from the malnutrition that I simply continued to pump the IV into his system for a while before refilling it.

"Mark?"

John was standing there, some blood from his lips from feeding on Phil. He swung his body towards the bed and he was stroking Phil's cheek. "Didn't you feed enough, John? He's human. You can't take blood from him. He's weak."

John shook his head and slowly held Punk close to him, running his fingers through his hair. "He's warm."

"Tell you what? I'll let you spend a little time with him. About 15 minutes after sunset but I'll be here supervising. I can't let you hurt him." John nodded his head, going back to stroking Punk and almost waiting for him to wake up. It seemed to be hurting my vampire, to develop these emotions. I wanted to stop it from happening before it was too late but it was already too late. He'd seen Phil and if I restricted Phil from him, one of my strongest vampires would not only never forgive me but would continue to see Phil behind my back and possibly hurt him.

I watched him hold Punk for a while before I told him we had to go downstairs. Then I stopped only to stare at my Jeff softly kissing his Testafie, and my heart stopped.

My vampires…

Were finding love.

I couldn't let that happen.

My other puzzled vampires, Randy, Ted, Evan, Adam and Mike were staring at me as if it was something new and exciting to kiss your own Testafie. Randy, Ted and Evan all had one Testafie, Cody, who was pumped full of blood once and then all drained by the end of the day, just staring from weakness with those eyes. Adam's Testafie was Chris and Mike's Testafie was Shannon. Cody, Phil Shannon and Matt lived in separate cold room where their systems were frozen, as if they were dead, this was their sleep. Cody was strong but after the day was done, he was weak but stronger than both Shannon and Matt combined. Matt could barely wake and Shannon couldn't see. Cody's only impairment was that he had breathing difficulties. Phil, on the other hand, was incredibly anemic. Testafies were made to be able to have the blood in their system for months even without feeding.

Phil, on the other hand, wasted blood. When he cried, when he sweated, when he threw up…all blood.

Matt stared at Jeff blankly before Jeff kissed his nose.

"I won't believe it…" I muttered under my breath.

I turned around only to see that John was gone, upstairs - to what might be the only human that may have survived…

* * *

**About 5-10 Moore parts! Maybe shorter, maybe Moore, who knows?**

**X Sam.**


	28. Perfume of Withered Roses TedRandy

**-_- sweet sort of horror, don't judge me. XD!**

* * *

Title: Perfume of Withered Roses  
Rated: +18 - violence; blood  
Summary: Second Randiasi fic. Ted looked against the waves as they sigh, the gray morning sky was mocking him and the kiss of sunlight bathed upon his pale face. Another day. Another broken memory.  
For: April ;D

* * *

Randy's life revolved around a movie, simple, French, horror movie. A movie about perfume, and perfume in its love. A movie about a man that murdered, murdered in cold blood, that had taken the sweet perfume out of each strand of hair they owned and bathed upon the sugary scent of them and other women had fallen in love with the essence of his being, the essence that had never truly belonged to him, the essence that belonged to every innocent girl he'd murdered for his own broken desire.

Randy loved that movie. It was the loving origin of his and Ted's now fading romance, that caused them to get together and then again break apart into a distorted love that refused to end. Randy hadn't broken up and neither had Ted, it was just always a fading yet everlasting romance between them that was held upon by dead doves and withering roses.

Ted remembered that Randy used to call Ted a beautiful, beautiful rose, withering, softly, in its own tragedy of course, like their withering romance. For Ted's sleepless nights after Cody's death and departure had led him to bloodshot eyes and purple circles underneath his eyes that danced before his flesh and demarked it with his sadness. Then it was the flesh that became fragile and weak, flaky and broken, reflecting against the heart of Ted that didn't exist anymore.

Cody was Ted's life, from start to finish, not his lover, not a brother or a friend, something deeper than both, Cody was the sweet rose of his broken love life, the one that he'd handed to Randy for protection but in the end, even that lively budding turquoise rose had died and withered into nothing into that bed of death that he shouldn't have been on until at least thirty years later.

Ted's engagement ring had been turquoise and he felt a stab at his heart whenever the gray morning sky had touched against that stone to burn it into a lively colour, the colour that Cody's eyes had, but now he couldn't really take it off after Randy's own death and departure. It had happened so fast, the knife, the grief, the tears, the death…it seemed like he was so alive, breathing, bleeding, loving, but then, he was just nothing more than a solidified body, all life and colour taken away from Randy's flesh, as did Cody's… and Ted, Ted, the palest of the pale, the weakest of the weak, had only one heart that had been taken away at Cody's departure…

When Randy had died, Ted didn't feel anything…waking up every morning and expecting to see him around. He found himself lying, waiting for Randy to come by, waiting for his heart to be found in the shadows of darkness he'd lost it in but not once had he told himself that Randy was truly dead - just lost, and Ted was going to find him. Before his death, Randy had left by a perfume for Ted, Randy, who had chopped locks and locks of Ted's hair at night, had taken out every hint of perfume in his hair…

Every scent, and the final scent was nothing more than the tainted oceans, broken lullabies and withering roses. He remembered Randy, Randy holding the knife and tearing off his flesh. He remembered his own hot tears rushing about his face as Randy slowly chopped off the flesh, to put into his boiling water, to take out the scent of Ted in every way. He'd chopped out different places in his flesh, his shoulder, his stomach, his thigh, his leg, and Ted looked like a mismatched puppet, dancing along Randy's love for blood and macabre.

He remembered Randy's putting him in sweet boiling water until his flesh had swollen, puffing up into nothing but red and red itself was swallowing him…bleeding and burning onto the inside, drowning into Randy's heart, suffocating and choking under blood, blood that never really belonged to him…Randy's desire, Randy's love, Randy's want for perfume.

Sweet, sweet perfume.

And Ted looked against the waves as they sigh, the gray morning sky was mocking him and the kiss of sunlight bathed upon his pale face. Another day. Another broken memory. Waiting and waiting and then finally his bath was ready, soaking into Randy's scent of withering roses, his perfume of broken memories, Ted was drowning endlessly…hearing the soft lullaby.

_"You promised us a child, Ted. I want it."_

Ted's arms around his flat stomach, how he wasn't a female, how his body could not handle Randy's love child, but now Ted and Randy's child was nothing more than the perfume, the scent of fading romance the felt together, the darkness that they choked upon…Ted's eyes blinked, blue eyes looking around white walls and white places, white…not red, not the red that Randy had showed him so much, the blood, the love, the desire…the darkness…

_"I love you, Ted."_

A gulp of breath, he was drowning into the sweet water…hearing the sound of the ocean crashing against him, taking him, Ted holding a razor and slitting his throat, very softly, very sweetly, so that the red would fall. Red, Randy…red, to colour against the pale white walls and pale white bath tub, the colour that Randy adored the most, the colour that Randy faced when he'd cut Ted on the inside, and Ted took another breath as he drowned and burned, submitting to the roses - Teddy, a beautiful, beautiful rose, withering in its own tragedy.

* * *

**This was a silent type of horror -_-**

**XD!**

**X Sam.**


	29. Torn Up Photos AdamMorro

**Okay, hi, darlings! I've been quite hectic lately with all the Christmas stuff. Anyway…I've decided to make these pretty little horror Christmas shots that can be seen as more of a Christmas gift in its own sense…a very…er…interesting one. XD. I can't promise you that all of them would be before Christmas but I'll try ^u^**

**Me girls/dudes: **_**Shaddin, Kimber, KitKat, Kassy, Rosie, Monica, Mischa, April, Alex, Cody, and Jackie. **_**And I'll take any request and stuff for this occasion ^u^. No matter if I don't really know you…I'll take anything, people! 3 as LONG as I know them. I BARELY watch wrestling due to guests visiting every Friday *I hate my life; RAW and Smackdown are both on the same night* but I'll try to pick it up so that you're able to request whatever you'd like and not limited to the ancient pairings, XD! ^_^**

**PLUS IMMA DO THE OLDER REQUESTS TOO XD. My mind is fully loaded on T&T ;D.

* * *

**

Title: Torn Up Photos

Summary: John's been dubbed as "innocent", far too innocent…Edge/John Morrison.

For: _MickieMelina4Eva _

* * *

It's just another one of those nights where the moonlight brushes against their skin and they hear the sound of a chortle followed by a chaste kiss and the candlelight burns silently and it's almost like a clock ticking away every moment of frustration and anguish that hangs into the air and the tension still resides even though there's some sort of fake happiness in their eyes that looks almost real.

John's face is cupped by his lover and there's just not another word to hear and not another sound that can break the very gentle brush of Adam's lips against John's. The candle is still silent even though it wants to warn them that it's not the only one that'll melt in the end. It's a foreshadowing of a tale of sadness and despair but they don't listen even though on the inside they know what'll happen to. John slowly tries to unbutton his shirt but Adam's hand is onto John's thin, adorable wrist and their eyes meet and it's the same cycle again.

There are pictures all around the room. Adam always tells John to take a picture of himself and hang it up around the room whenever they've one a little mistake and John doesn't retaliate or say why and the pictures are haunting and etching into the back of John's mind - pictures of him into Adam's arms into that white dress that symbolise his innocence, pictures of him sitting down onto a bench, and they're always just so covered and that's one of the reasons why Adam doesn't let John wrestle anymore…he can't bare to see his little puppet showing off his chest and hearing comments of some sort of bulimic nature that John's adapted to whilst they're all perfectly sure he eats well and loves his body too much to be a bulimic.

Still Adam's scared of his adorable little flower having any type of disorder and he limits John's time in the bathroom whilst he searches for diet pills or laxatives and after two months, he'd finally given up, knowing that John isn't doing anything to his body. He's looked even in the most unexpected places, like John's underwear drawer and every book in the shelf even though it's impossible to wedge a bottle of diet pills into a book without it being noticed.

Adam watches as John stares at him, still wanting to expose himself to him but Adam shakes his head. "It's not long now that we're going to get married. I don't want you to feel pressured, my love."

John stares at him and stares down at the floor. He wants to show himself to Adam but Adam won't let it. In Adam's own mind, John's simply just some sort of pretty little flower that won't ever be touched or tainted by anyone else in the world. John simply tells him that he'll go out to eat and he doesn't want him going around and Adam doesn't question John's slightly agitated voice. He's playing an act, Adam tells himself…

John walks out and meets up with Mike and off-set they're quite close as can be seen and John would never say it but he's jealous of Mike only because Mike isn't seen as some sort of Virgin Mary, he's actually seen as the opposite of that, with what his see-through black tights and his pretty little a-like tank and his too short shorts but now he's fully covered into black pants and a cuddly red cardigan that he'd stolen from his lover, John Cena and that might explain why it's slightly bigger than what Mike's used to and the way the light contrasts to bring the blue into his eyes makes John envious.

Mike is flawless.

John isn't. As much as he'd like to be, he isn't. He and Mike go out and they're sitting down beside the car and laughing and John stares at Mike with those slightly sad eyes and that's how the story _really _begins.

**- t o r n u p p h o t o s -**

It's about two months after they're married that John gets even more agitated. Adam just starts coming in late from the wrestling federation so that they'd avoid the sex all together even though John and him are married and he'd promised but promises are just meant to be broken and he's trying to avoid an angry John. Adam's entire family just walk in on Christmas Eve, with presents with a dozen colours and all of them are filled with the colour white. To Adam and his family, white means pure. White is the basis of a virgin's life in there. In Adam's family, it's easy to detect that half his sisters are virgins because they wear both the colours white and a purity ring whilst the sisters that aren't virgins are slightly looked down upon. It's almost a contest on who can stay innocent the longest and John's won it even if he hasn't wanted to. The virgin sisters walk towards him and ask him for his "secret" and John simply smiles and fakes secrets because really, he just wants to be touched already.

It's after Christmas dinner that Adam and Drake decide to go out, leaving John with the other girls whom are giggling and he suddenly feels disgusted and too pure to live on because really, if he's as pretty as irresistible as Adam says - then why is he still a virgin? Maybe that's the real reason. John thinks that he's as fake as a plastic doll.

Everyone loves little virgin John whom is as sweet as a six year old and shouldn't ever be touched. John doesn't feel like he's too "cute" to be touched - he feels like he's just too disgusting nowadays. Maybe it's the days that he's tempted to stay outside into a cropped skirt and high heels that make him want to laugh and cry the most. Maybe it's because something of him is missing and he just can't find it. His life becomes circled about him in bed and him staring at the pictures around. He's full of white. He's just full of white in every picture. He looks like a doll that can't be touched or he'd just explode for some reason.

He just wants to show him that he's not so innocent sometimes but he doesn't know how to. John can't bear to actually wear those clothes since he feel too filthy into them but he can't bear to be called so innocent all the time.

**- t o r n u p p h o t o s -**

He just can't see straight anymore. His body's numb and his heart's pumping so fast and his vision blurs and the pain hurts and he feels like he's being torn apart in two and he just wants some sort of help but he can't find himself into this mess he's brought upon himself and it's just so horrible and he sees flashes of a horror scene and it's not a real horror…not really…

**- t o r n u p p h o t o s -**

'_Poor Mike.'_

'_I don't know how he can just die like that…'_

'_Mike, dead? What kinda creep would just kill him like that?'_

John listens and he can't believe it and Adam's arms are around John's stomach, kissing his head and saying "I'll protect you" over and over again and it's like John can't handle himself and he's just that fragile…

'_Poor Mikey…'_

**- t o r n u p p h o t o s -**

_Mike pushes past the road, his shorts are too short and his white shirt is just too pretty and he's joking around with John on the phone, "well, John, if I can fuck you, I would…you're just so pretty…I can almost imagine how you'd look like naked. Kinda smooth-like, you know? I'd fuck you up pretty good…my cock in your ass…just sounds so good, huh, Johnny-boy? We should do that sometime…I can't imagine living like you do."_

_He closes the phone and stares into space and almost instantly he's attacked and there's just a hit of a scalpel towards his shoulder and it's cutting him in an almost circular motion and Mike can't help but try and breathe and his eyes are burning with tears and the blood's just so…horrible…his predator tears off the piece of his shoulder and bites it almost as if he's lunch but he looks more interested into maiming him into pieces rather than eating him. Mike stares at his arm and he notices that his predator is cutting him into pieces. The flash of silver upon his skin and then his predator his face with something so hard that he feels as if his cheekbones breaking and Mike allows himself to shed some final tears before he's just fully nothing but skin and bones._

**- t o r n u p p h o t o s -**

"Look!" Carrabelle's fingers are laced around a tiny ball. It's only a day after Mike's death but for John it feels like a year. Adam touches him and tries to cajole him and tells him that they're looking for the murder and that John's not allowed to leave the house and now he's sitting underneath the stairway trying to celebrate Carrabelle's birthday but John moves towards the kitchen and notices a cake opposite of Carrabelle's cake.

John smiles softly. It's his birthday two days after Carrabelle's. Adam must've thought that he doesn't want to be late for his birthday either. Adam, he wants to be prepared for everything at this case. John moves towards the cake and eyes it. It just looks so delicious with its pinkness. John spears a cut of cake and eats it. It's a tiny cake. John presumed Adam had made it for two. Adam walks inside with slightly wide eyes.

"I know you've been planning to make me a party for my birthday, Addy." John smiles at him, eating another bite of the cake. Adam nods silently but doesn't say a word as he stares at him. "I know you like stuff to be surprises, Addy but pull up a chair. Do you want a piece?"

"No! Eat your cake. I'll just go make you some milk! I think it's kinda dry that's all."

So typical of Adam. He thinks that the cake is dry so that's why he's so worried. Another part of Adam is that he wants to take care of John's pretty moisturised skin and his lovely hair and just everything about him. If John tells Adam to get him some sort of lotion from Paris, then Adam won't hesitate to fly over there himself and get it.

**- t o r n u p p h o t o s -**

Adam returns late to yet another day of pretending to work late where he's really at a bar drinking no more than water to try and avoid John thinking that he's not really working late and that he's off frolicking with other men. Adam opens the doorway and his heart pumps ten times faster because there's his John, into a tight black dress onto the floor and naked pictures of him and torn up photos of his innocent ones and a folded up note that Adam opens up and read silently.

'_I'm not innocent, Adam. I'm just not innocent enough for your taste…you…heard Mike talking to me slightly vulgarly and you attacked him and killed him and…I ate him. I ate him into that stupid cake. I realised this after I kinda bit through a ring I gave him for his birthday. I know. I just know Addy. YOU KILLED MY MIKE…why? …Addy…did you figure out that he raped me? Well, I led him on, Adam. I'm just not so innocent after all…_

'_A picture for everything wrong in my life…I don't think I have enough footage in my camera to show you my shame…' _

'_Addy, I do not expect to be touched. I just expect to suffer into Hell for what I've done. Please forgive me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry…I'm not innocent enough…what is innocence anyway…? I forgot. I just lost myself and I found myself when I was cheating on you with Mike. I don't expect you to be in my funeral. I don't even expect you to bury me. The ground has less filth than I do right now…I wish I can wash off the filthy thoughts and be as pure as you want me to be, almost like an angel…but you didn't marry an angel, Adam. You married a lying, cheating whore is what you married. Better luck next time I suppose…'_

'_I do not expect a funeral. I do not expect to be touched. I do not expect to be buried. I just expect to wither silently in my own filth because really…I'm no beautiful tragedy…'_

'_I love you, Adam Copeland…'_

'_A picture for everything wrong in my life…Sorry for all the naked pictures. I'm not a beauty, Adam. I know this. I know that I'm not some sort of goddess…ha…this dress smells like Mike. I'm crazy anyway you would be glad I'm dead. Bye, Adam. Maybe one day in time I can actually be that person in that photograph, that pretty little innocent flower that you've always loved…I wish I was…maybe in a different universe, we're just that perfect couple… I don't know…'_

'_I don't know anything anymore…'_

**- t o r n u p p h o t o s -**

**I hope that produced at least 0.1 percent of shock factor when you realised that John actually ATE Mike. XD.**

**Merry early Christmas all you people xxx Sam**


	30. Cookie RandyCena

**Now I think I wanna focus on Christmas horror ^_^**

-

Title: Cookie  
Summary: a brain surgery and a cookie. Legit Cenaton!  
For: Shadooni 3  
I has Christmas joy and wants to give giftsies! I'm trying to be quite quick though about it D:-and, Shaddin, if you call me cute, I might just eat you. XD. With COOKIES. ;D AND NO SEX, SEE?

**- : 3 - X - X - C - O - O - K - I - E - X - X - : 3 -**

"No…I don't wanna do it," Randy's voice was full of aggravation.

"But you'll die."

"Fine. I'll die. Nobody's sticking their hands instead of my brain. Isn't that some sort of brain-sex?"

"No," John Cena laughed softly at his lover, watching him with twinkling blue eyes and a huge smile on his face.

"…lobe sex?"

"No!" John shook his head and laughed at his insane lover but he said nothing as he stared at the clipboard in front of him. He told the Doctors that he'd get Randy to sign it, not like Randy had another choice but to do so-or die though Randy was still adamant about it. Randy had fallen off a great height of twenty feet and the land ruptured his skull so now he was bleeding into his brain. He needed to get a brain surgery done but he didn't want them to touch his brain at all. He'd even told John he'd rather just die rather than let anyone touch his brain. John simply sighed and stared at Randy.

"I love you." John said, cupping Randy's face. "Now sign the damn paper, Orton."

"Nu-uh!" Randy exclaimed, staring at him with some sort of childish stubbornness and John sighed again, looking around the room, which was filled with fruit baskets and fruit cake in general. Oh Christmas. The season for raining hard-rock fruitcakes and red and green colours. John remembered he used to joke to Randy about getting Christmas drunks for the season and that landed him going to the supermarket dressed as Rudolf, the reindeer. Well, at least he inspired many comedy performers that were there…?

"I'll get you a cookie."

"Trying to fatten me up, Cena?"

"They'll go straight to those massive thighs of yours."

"Are you trying to get yourself into a brain surgery?" Randy glared at his lover whom simply shook his head, that playful smile still upon his face as he brought a crisp white fabric and put it over one of the baskets even if Randy could easily detect the sugary scent. "I'll give you a cookie."

Randy shook his head and stared at John with a scornful look onto his face. "Only one cookie for an entire brain surgery? Damn. I wonder if it was just a toothache. What would I get? Free dirt? Damn, Cena, you're cheap."

"I'm not!" John retorted back, grabbing onto one of the cookies and smelling them. "Besides, it's my Mother's cookies. The finest cookies in the world. Of course one surgery per cookie is needed."

"Want to land yourself in the bed next to me?"

"Yeah, pretty much." John munched onto the cookie, it was gooey and easily broken and the chocolate chips that adorned it seemed to send Randy into a food rampage as he sighed before staring back at the clipboard. Die or have someone have brain-sex with you. It wasn't really much of an option. Randy scribbled his signature near the sheet of paper and gave it to John.

"Doctor better not sell that!"

"…conceeeeeited."

"And damn well proud of it, Cena."

- : 3 - X - X - C - O - O - K - I - E - X - X - : 3 -

John offered to stay beside Randy since they both knew there was a risk that he might die of it. John was standing beside his lover, watching as the Dr Bennett grabbed onto a scalpel beside him, asking John if he'd truly want to be there since he might throw up at the sight. John nodded his head, and stared down at Randy. He even offered to pay the Doctor if he'd let him near his lover. Bennett had given Randy an MRI and a CT both and he'd realised the spot he'd needed to open up.

With a skilful touch, Bennett created that hole in the skull effortlessly. His easiness simply made John less tense since he was standing there with a pumping heart. Bennett removed a bone flap, causing John's stomach to wrench. He felt horrid when they were giving Randy anaesthetics but now he only felt worse, staring at Randy's full open cranium.

"Don't worry. The flap will be replaced after the surgery is over." Bennett told him, smiling at him sweetly. "See this aneurysm? I'll cut it off so that there isn't any blood flow in that part."

With that, Bennett clipped the aneurysm. The pink muscle disbanding as if made of rubber. John's stomach twisted and churned at the sight of the blood-coated muscles and the thought of anything in his brain being clipped.

"John…?" Bennett asked him as he brought a special microscope towards Randy's brain and he was looking through it. His fingers were inside of Randy's brain again, causing John to look away. He just can't see this. "You want to get out…?"

"No! It's okay. I'm just…well, I don't wanna see that bit."

"He's fine. Look at his pressure! It's just fine." He pointed towards a monitor beside him, which was beating steadily. Bennett's nodded. "I see the lesion. Now to remove it…"

John turned his head around back again. He didn't want to see Bennett try and pull out a lesion off Randy's brain. His thoughts were drifting and he felt dizzy but not dizzy enough to faint. It was just so odd…only a month ago had Randy been smiling and laughing and they'd been planning which flat they wanted to live in whilst they were off vacation and they didn't even unpack. His stomach lurched. He hated to think of going back into that flat and smelling Randy's cologne again and seeing those packed up boxes that he needed to unpack, solely on his own. They'd mixed their things together so now he had to unpack every box on his own and stumble on Randy's things-and if Randy died during this…oh hell no…that would be torture to do. The more he thought about it, the more he wished he hadn't spend yesterday joking around and was instead holding Randy and he wished that they did half the things he'd wanted them to do. Marry. Adopt Cecelia's baby boy, whom she was going to put up for adoption. Tell his parents about Randy. Go to Matt's wedding together…

Snippets of what could have been kept flashing before his head, ensuring him that it could've been a different reality…it should've been a different reality. "John, since you're wearing gloves to look stylish," this caused a weak smile of laughter to bring upon itself on John's face. "Then please get me the sutures. I'm going to stitch the bone flap on again."

John moved his hand towards the sutures and the only reason he knew where they were was because Bennett was pointing to them. Bennett grabbed onto the sutures, and John stared back at Randy, whom looked like he was in some sort of irritated sleep, as the Doctor stitched back his bone flap to his brain, causing John's stomach to lurch again but a pang of happiness burned. His Randy was fine. The procedure was done. His pressure was still fine.

And the thoughts of despair seemed to evaporate with the realisation.

**- : 3 - X - X - C - O - O - K - I - E - X - X - : 3 -**

"Hey, Randy!"

Randy's eyes were open now but he was staring into space for what felt like hours. Bennett told him that surgeries might affect things that John wouldn't even guess. Randy's eyes stared up at John's with a look of being lost and in despair.

"I wa-nt…" Randy said, with a slightly frightened tone to his voice.

"Randy?"

"You promised!"

"What?"

"Cookie." Randy responded, as if it was the most logical thing in the world. John nodded his head, laughing slightly as Randy's want and impulse for the cookie as he reached into the basket and gave Randy the gooey cookie. "I can make better!" Randy's eyes burned in some sort of happiness.

"Really, Ran?"

Randy nodded his head. "Take me home."

During the car ride, things that seemed so simple Randy noticed. He'd notice John's smell, he smelled slightly like vanilla with a twist of spicy orange chocolate. Randy cuddled close to him, that smell was just so good…and then he noticed how pretty and bright the world was. He really wanted to make those cookies. He felt like baking and waiting for them to be made. Like a little creation.

John smiled warmly as he saw Randy bolt towards the little kitchen in their apartment. The kitchen was lime green and golden yellow and Randy was beside the stove already, getting out the whisk and the blue bowl. "You know what'll be better?" Randy asked. "If you help me, silly!"

At his love's slightly odd behaviour, John shut the door and walked towards him. Within five minutes of Randy trying to mix around a lumpy yellow mix, John got tired and told him that he was going to go watch some football. Randy stared at him shell-shocked.

"But you said you would!"

"I said I'd give you a cookie, Ran."

"Then help me make one and then you can give it to me!"

"Randy! You're blowing this out of proportion!"

"I'm the one that had the brain surgery! I thought you can do this one little thing for me but I guess I was wrong."

"You know I hate cooking."

"You know I hate people touching my brain!" Randy threw a spoon towards John which he easily dodged. John simply stared at Randy as he went back to back, fuming as he mixed in a big more sugar. John picked up the spoon and put it into the drain.

"I'm sorry, Ran."

"It's okay."

"No, really, I'm sorry."

"I said it was fine!" Randy retorted, glaring at him and with a shaky movement, John moved towards the door. This was not his Randy at all. He sat down onto the couch, flipping through channels and sighing softly before standing up and going to help Randy with his cookies again.

"Randy…? Where are yo-?"

**- : 3 - X - X - C - O - O - K - I - E - X - X - : 3 -**

Randy stared down at his plate of perfected prepared cookies. In a basket with white fabric. Yes. Nicely done. He sat there and he nibbled down onto one of them, with red icing, sugary and gooey, with a slight pink tint in them. If he just kept on eating, he'd be sane again…

On the floor beside him laid John Cena…with his brains all over the place. Randy stared back at the pinkness in his cookies. Yes. He'd be sane again. He just needed a piece of mind and a bit of red icing to get him back on the track.

**- : 3 - X - X - C - O - O - K - I - E - X - X - : 3 -**

**I LURVE SHADDIN. Thanks for uploading this as well XD :3**

X Sammy! ;3


	31. Alcohol & Bandages HeathWade

Title: Alcohol & Bandages  
Summary: just close your eyes. Heath/Wade.  
For: Kimber  
**Note: I tried to make it a light sorta horror. What Kimber's saying in her head: _yeah, right! Light horror? You? I don't think so! _XD! I had to stay up watching Smackdown again, trying to remember it through YouTube. Gah. My Father will destroy me. The ONLY experience with Heath/Wade that I had was reading 'Concave' by…well, yourself.**  
Song: _"Alcohol & Bandages" _- JamisonParker

* * *

The cool night air is nothing but cold and harsh on the skin. **The house is still at midnight.** The candle burned amongst the darkness, a flame in the silent longing that slowly and gradually filled the household…for little cute cotton slippers were around the bed, and the flames burn to the intensity of beautiful orange hair. Hard brown eyes looking around the room that seemed so motionless. The night as dead as the yearning in the heart and the snow fell like little flakes of the white bed, as if they were trying to reach the bed and cover the red stains that surrounded it.

Then the first sound. The sound of glass cracking.

**By one, we'll be a wreck.**

Shouting and screaming and the motionless world was speeding and crashing and hurting all too quickly. _Fuck you, Wade Barrett! Fuck you! _Escaping with every word, spinning around a conscience of guilt and pain. _I'm your protégé, I'm your protégé, I'm your protégé…fuck you. I'm not an experiment. I'm not…_the kiss of the knife close to Heath's skin all over again. The candle screamed in the same intensity of red-coated orange hair. _Protégé. Protégé. Protégé. _

**Alcohol and bandages will soon follow this mess. **Drawing the open pink wound just a little bit longer…_fuck you. Fuck you. God. The alcohol._ The rubbing clear alcohol touching open wound, probing through the pain and intensifying it ten times later but the scene was almost like a dream, the only touch of reality was the pain _and reality fucked me over again_.

Damages of a probing knife slit through skin but the skin was only like paper and the pencil touch again and the world spun around and it was hard to believe that it was once motionless motionless non-moving non-stopping oh _God the blood the searing cold blood and I can't breathe anymore and fuck off, Wade leave me alone and __whhhhhhhhhyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy__?_

But it all hit back to reality, electronic flows inside of the spine until the same grey wall looked back at you and tiny strands of fiery orange in front of a healthy face and the skin looked [**looks**] so fragile and breakable and the colours around were spurring from pink and yellow and orange and a dance of sunlight and far away from reality _and fuck you, Wade. Fuck you and your alcohol and bandages and lies. Fucking lies. But I'm just the protégé. Fuck you, whore._

Funny 'the whore' was on top of him anyway and it was a silent nurture of the moonlight, hitting against his flesh, almost like it recongised Heath but that didn't matter _the light can go fuck off I want to be alone I want to be alone dammit_.

A deck of cards falling and sounds of laughter and kisses and it all seemed to surreal and imaginary and Wade cupping a face that was yours and _die young anyway whilst you're still pretty_ old records and a painted smile and that fucking British charm that lured him in the first place and the s-s-s-stutter of words and the [kiss] hurt so bad suddenly and the [poison] in the kiss that seemed to stay forever into his system. Venomous touch.

Things feel like they're crawling all over his body destroying probing hurting _light fuck off _the colours and the memories _and all over the place _and memories of pretty little butterflies and sautéed potatoes and the scent of delicious food and the taste of the first kiss and the caramel and the honey and the love and the floating clouds and the world [seemed unimportant] and the alcohol tipping over and the bandages that seemed to squeeze out his skin too tightly and the spurring colours of red oozing down thin arms and thoughts of _Nexus is like a beauty mark we're no better than Lay-Cool we're all just trying to attain some sort of fucking unattainable perfection _and _Wade promised _[stay beautiful] _that I was on the verge of tattering perfection _**but **_perfection comes in the form of _**alcohol, bandages **_and _**tragic goodbyes.**

The taste of blood the feel of the skin hitting the cheekbone rupturing the arm breaking like a twig cupping a Barbie doll and snapping it in two rubber and pink… hitting him hard back into fantasy but the pain still burns the pain still fucking burns **[stay beautiful] **_well, yeah, dying quite beautifully beside our bed and the snow mocks me the snow is a fucking bastard and your eyes are somehow in the dark and the knife seems like a fantasy and what the fuck is going on? What's happening to me? _

**Sleeping's overrated, we lie awake and cry. **Colours and faces and familiar places and a pugdy child and a good dream and the stars twinkling and - Wade's kiss on his skin and holding him closely and Heath's eyes filled with heat and water and - fantasies weren't reality and -

Blood seeping alcohol burning tears falling _I love you I love you I hate you _a fluffy white teddy bear Christmas carols in a distance bandages trying to hide wounds and -

**If this is love, then kill me now and save me from my life.**

And -

**The house is dead by morning, as good as new again. The morning after funeral is coming to its end. **_Goodbye, heart. You're fucking worthless and the person who owns you _[Wade] _didn't even bear to come to your useless funeral _[dead flowers]. **Smile's are too tempting and hopes as good as lies. **_Just lie just lie just lie just lie about your worthless life and the way he hates how straight and orange your hair is _[stay beautiful_], stay beautiful my ass Wade Barrett_.

Memories are pain that lost their meaning over time.

Kisses and roses and perfect dates and candles and fantasies and crushed hopes and tequila and cigarettes that seem all too far away and a couch and a box of ice cream and [a perfect life really outside, they think you're so fucking happy being Wade's protégé].

_Protégé. Protégé. Protégé. Protégé. Protégé._

**Just close your eyes, everything will be okay. Just close your eyes, everything will be okay. Just close your eyes, everything will be okay. Just close your eyes, just close your eyes…**

An angel reaching out, a porcelain angel and Chinese tea and blood boiled in the flesh and a kiss on the lips and a love story that ended all too tragically… just let us sleep. We never asked for this. _[a cliché love story ending in an emotionally broken down mind]_

_He loves me he loves me he loves me _isn't this the part where he confesses his love? _He loves me he loves me he loves me…_Heath silently knew that Wade hadn't even uttered the words **I love you **but that doesn't mean that Wade didn't love him right? _After all, I was your protégé… _

But it didn't really matter that pretty little brown eyes were shut tightly…

Blood seeping tears dry face sticky on a fabric of white despair _[our pretty little bed]_

After all…

I **[stay**_ed_** beautiful]. **

**

* * *

**

**8'D**

**I forgot. One fic I read ended with 'Stay beautiful'. It was really fluffy and stupid but XD it made me think of it whilst writing this.**

**X Sam.  
**


	32. Wicked Wonderland JeffMatt

**Title: Wicked Wonderland**  
**Summary: and inside, I make a mental note to chop my hair off and douse it in blood. **  
**For: _Kassy_**

**Song = Lita Ford - Wicked Wonderland**

**Note at end.**

* * *

_Jeff_**

* * *

**

Banging chains and sweet lies were the end of me, sweetheart.

Club soda flavoured with fruit juice, dancing colours of aqua and orange and possessiveness hung in the air greatly. I supposed it wasn't the best type of _"hang-out" _or _"chill out zone" _unless you're the type of person that liked watching a guy's brains exploding by the furnace because of gun play and preferred mopping up a man's brains for funs. Yes. A zombie techno-high club and I waited them with a short liquid black skirt and a golden tuxedo shirt because really, humans seemed to turn zombies on more than ever. Especially in the colour gold and they were full of blood lust, as can be noted.

Why am I here?

Simple reason. My dead brother was a zombie and I just needed to see him. Very few people knew the existence of them and I will not probe on the horrid revelation to why I knew about them…okay, maybe slightly. My brother was one of those high-end death-honour-killing types and he thought that he'd kill me for leading him on in a sexual way when he was alive and that was how he died really. We had a horrid fetish of having a gun in the playroom, or rather, I did and - well, he didn't know it was loaded. Poor Matty - and I am apathetic. Not normally I mean but because I've been high on those horrid dosage of those pretty white pills and I just wanted to forget but instead of forgetting that I am the reason for my brother's dead, I ended up on a drug high of numbness in a cruel nature.

Nothing just seemed to strike me. Someone can tell me that my Father committed suicide and I'd just stare at them and that itself hurt but it was more of a mental hurt and my body felt like ice cold. What people misunderstood about zombies was that they looked like horrible people that were half-mummified or really brainless. The only brainless zombies I'd known were the ones that had their brains shot and my brother's heart was shot. He was heartless. Yes. But not brainless.

Maybe that was why I wanted to see him tonight. The cold air matched my cold body. I needed to see him tonight. I just can't handle walking up early for school when I'd only had an hour of sleep because I was too busy to look for Matt and I told myself that this was the last time I was doing this because really…my grades were slipping. It didn't really affect me as it should have. I don't know what's wrong with me. I just don't care anymore. I don't know why. I just feel so cruel and horrid all the time and fuck it, I want some sort of pain. My brother's funeral didn't get me like it should have.

Before, it wasn't that big of a problem, the apathy. I had a period of dissociative fugue that lasted for…9 years. People didn't understand a lot. Dissociative fugue wasn't DID or amnesia or anything of that. It was more like I was trapped in my house for years just because when my Father took me to some place, I'd lose myself. I'd forget who I was. That was what they told me. They didn't get it. I wasn't losing myself. I couldn't feel like it. It felt like I'd wake up from a dream sometimes and there was just this big chunk of my life that was a dream. It was a dream. They weren't memories. People just don't forget memories in a blink of an eye like that. The Doctors told me this was probably because some sort of trauma that I can't remember as a child that caused me to forget myself but what confused them was that most patients, after a few days, did remember. That was when the apathy just started and I was diagnosed with conversation disorder, which explained my dissociative fugue.

Conversation disorder was like when neurological related stuff happened and it wasn't explained. Apathy was one of those things. Then why did I go to school if I was going to forget whom I was? My Father tried to tell me to write these things on my arm and sometimes, the ink washed away and I'd be lost again but I'd never admit it that I'd screw up like that. When Matt was alive, it was much more easier. He'd lead me around and tell me what I had to do and whom I was. That just seemed so stupid that I didn't even know who I was half the time. Then how come I remember all of this about Matt? I didn't know. It just seemed so stupid that I'd wake up in the middle of the night sometimes and I'd remember Matt and what happened between us but I'd forgot my name and my age and why I was there. Drugs rarely did anything. Drugs just made me feel numb and number - it just made it worse but I wouldn't tell my Dad that. Because really, pills that cost that much should be eaten.

So here I was. Jeff Hardy. Mental patient. Pocketing chocolate and nuts from the table when people weren't looking and eating them in secret and scanning the room for my brother. It just seemed like a bliss that I remembered. I was so scared-that I was somehow going to get lost in those colourful lights and the sugar glass that I'd end up in a club of zombies. I ate a chocolate truffle and a dose of pills again. I just can't forget…I just can't forget…

I stared at the chocolate truffles and grinned, pocketing some more in my waitress skirt. Those things cost $70 a box. No way I was paying $70 for a little chocolate but they tasted so good. Maybe that was another reason why I was here. Because dead zombies didn't appreciate chocolate truffles like I did. They usually left them there just in case that a zombie was stupid enough to eat chocolate. Now, here was the shocking bit. Zombies looked like normal humans but zombie children were another story. I remembered that Tiffany girl used to suck on chocolates and eat mice and her child was made out of chocolate hair and a mouse nose and a tail. The rest of her was normal but that was what happened to zombie children. Zombies can't really digest food or get rid of it so it stayed in their bodies until they fall pregnant. Both sexes can I remembered since there was basically a free zombie nation. Most of them looked the same anyway. Zombie females mostly had extremely small breasts. I wondered how that worked if a girl with a DD cup died…was it chopped off or did this show us just how many people have plastic surgeries?

Yes. I was a plasticsurgery-ist. I mean, really…balloons for breasts? Some people can get carried away. Z breasts. Seriously? …okay, focus. Matt. I can't forget. I can't forget. I can't forget. I turned around to look around for anyone black curly haired and pale.

"Jeff?"

Look who found who.

I turned around and was faced with Matt and was it wrong to say that he looked better dead than alive…? Yeah. I think it was but maybe it was because I didn't see him for long and why wasn't my heart beating ten times faster? Where were the butterflies and the longing for kisses and the need for him to hug me tightly and tell me my hair was the silliest thing he'd ever seen? …what happened to me? He stared back at me with piercing, cold eyes.

"Mine." Matt smirked, grabbing onto my wrist and leading me towards another door that was locked but he somehow produced a golden key. "Was waiting for you."

"Are you going to kill me?"

_God. _

I said it like I was asking him '_so how's the weather?' _Where was the fear? The intensified fear that was supposed to be in my voice instead of boredom? I hated this apathy. I hated this numbness.

"Not yet." He smirked back at me with those pretty hard brown eyes. Yes. He was heartless. I could just taste it on his breath. It didn't matter. A heartless zombie and an apathetic mental patients that were brothers were probably going to have sex right now and then the zombie killed the mental patient…very predictable, no? He leaned back and stared at me. "You know what I despised?"

Matt shook his head. "You couldn't remember the part of the story we got off. I ended up reading Chapter One of Alice in Wonderland about 40 times before I just got pissed. You just couldn't remember it."

"Sorry for forgetting half my identity and forgetting a story, Matt." I retorted then I felt a bit of guilt crystallising because after all, I did kill him and now I was being cold towards him? Maybe I was the heartless mental patient but he had a right to say something that annoyed him about me. I was shocked he didn't just take his shoe out and threw it at me. He just rolled his eyes and stared at me with those piecing eyes again.

"…I want to tell you the story."

"You want to tell me a preteen story when I'm…not a preteen anymore?" I reminded him. After all, I was a full 15 year old and I didn't want him telling me stories about some girl and a rabbit. He just smirked and opened the key before leading me inside.

"No, you know let me rephrase that - I wanted to _show _you the story…"

In the vast field of green, purple and blue, I saw nothing but endless forest and then I felt his teeth bite through my neck. His hands running up my skirt before he shook his head. "Always the slut, Jeff. Can't be decent, can we?"

"Why? You're just going to take it off anyway."

"Point taken, snowflake."

Snowflake? Snowflakes were cute and tiny and white. That meant pure and innocent. I was not pure and innocent and he knew this very well. He just said that to tick on my buttons. He turned me around and stared down at my clothes as if they were a disgrace. "We need to get you into something better."

"You have something planned."

"Of course I do, snowflake." That nickname. He pulled off a purple fabric from the pocket of his jacket and he showed it to me.

"The cat."

"You saw the movie."

"You want me to be a grinning idiot of a cat? You think that's hot?"

"Yes."

"You have weird fetishes."

I sat down onto the dry grassy field and took off my black heels, staring back at him. I didn't know why I was obeying him anymore. I just wanted to do something. The world seemed quite empty and dull even if the colours around me reflected otherwise. Sliding down the black skirt, I pulled the furry purple one and played with its waistband for a moment before grabbing onto the stripped stockings. This was just so stupid. I was wearing something he'd tear off in minutes away but whatever floated his boat. Stripped stockings, a furry purple skirt and a preteen pink tank top. And now he wanted me to wear cat ears and that detachable tail. God, I didn't want to look into the mirror.

He was dressed in some sort of coat and a hat. I watched the movie a really long time ago…I just can't remember a thing. He stared at me and smirked. "Mad Hatter."

"Right. I know that."

"You don't know your name half the time. Shush."

"Don't remind me." I coaxed. He grabbed onto my wrist and smiled at the look of me, pulling me slightly closer and the shocking electricity that used to be there was just dead and I missed it but not as weakly as my mind convinced me. It all just felt like a dream. And this felt so mechanical, as if he was just gonna push and pull out and kill me quickly. It felt so dull and emotionless. The world just tasted like nothing but a slight bitterness. There was no movement, no life, no tricks, nothing for childish eyes to spark on. I was in a wonderland and I didn't really care. It all felt like I've seen things before even if I haven't. It all felt and tasted like plastic and tears. I didn't know why. It just did…

He put his hand on mine and there was no sweet gesture, just a rough kiss. This was what I'd used to. Where was the lust. The need. I tried to fake it as much as I could. I wrapped my hands around his neck and I pulled my leg towards his hip like I always did and it felt nice but it just…wasn't quite it. There was no dynamic feel and need and want. Just a movement of dialogue and stiff bodies. It felt like we were both made out of rock solid and bloated and sticky but nothing melted off like it was supposed to. It was like water and oil, non-mixing, just on top of each other in some sort of harmony. There was no spice. There was just this bland flavour upon my tongue. Every movement felt dry and stale. There was slowness instead of quick and buttery and need and want. Everything just disappeared and he noticed it too because he pulled back, holding my cheek and cupping it. No warm, just coldness hitting me like it always had.

"We're miserable."

I flicked my eyelashes as if to say 'duh' before he stared down at me, trying to be aroused by it but nothing happened. No happy pills, no jack in a box, no sex, no need. Nothing. But then there was a part in Matt's eyes - the need…the need to somehow get me, conquer my emotions, move me. I knew that look all too well. It was a look of desired dominance. He wanted to dominate my emotions as much as he wanted to dominate my body. He wanted the control of my body, soul and brain and I could almost feel his dominant nature hitting my head hard. The times that he pinned my wrists down, telling me to beg and leaving me there with a need for a finish and he wouldn't provide it. He took more joy in knowing that I needed it. Then after a while, he'd just jump and take it all, the submissive nature of me. There was a hint of a spark, some sort of silver lightning into a storm.

Sorry. He was a zombie so gold lightning. Seriously, what was up with zombies and gold? Did it just turn into something attractive and sexy when you died? What if you drowned into a gold toilet like probably John Morrison would…? Would he still like gold?

I could almost feel his emotions rocking me. The limitless need for hurting me, that nothing was wrong and everything had to be right. I remembered him ripping my thigh with a razor blade once and this heated kiss following because the pain and the kiss and just…it felt like a fantasy but it didn't mean that I didn't want it nor miss it. The more that he ripped me and slashed me, the more I wanted him in me because those first few times were painful I must admit and the more pain, the better. The times he'd had that tongue ring and it gave such a weird, fun sensation… he made me find some sort of pleasure in pain. Maybe there were some sort of psychotic bits but hell, I had two mental disorders. Who didn't see some sort of psychosis coming through?

"You know how this started?" Matt smiled at me, there was some sort of laughter into his eyes as he told me the story. His eyes glittered throughout it. "I took you to Adam's house without Dad knowing and you were so scared that I gave you a book to read, hoping that would busy you. I didn't really care. I just wanted to talk with Adam and have dinner with him. You got bored of the book and started snooping around, finding Adam's porno collection. I found you there and you started manipulating me and touching me in places that you knew turned me on…that was how it started. You were about 13 and Adam was asleep. I told you I'd punish you and I did…with Adam's razor and his alcohol stash."

"And I found pleasure in the pain. I remember that." I responded. How could I not? That was the period where I cut myself to get off and was in S&M clothing waiting for Matt to come home so he could pound me in. Sad thing that the surrounding was so dream-like I forgot. I remembered everything that Matt did to me but if you were to ask me about things that went between me and my Father or Shannon, then I'd stare at you. I didn't remember a lot about them. Other than once, I stole Shannon's underwear to seduce Matt with it. He got insanely jealous that I was wearing another man's underwear. Shannon let me have it because it was too tight on him. That didn't mean it was comfortable to me really. And the screams were just lovely and gleeful.

Matt pulled out a razorblade from his pocket.

"You planned this." I observed and Matt nodded his head. "You knew I was…slightly out of it."

"I saw you a few days before and I planned it out." Matt's eyes glittered with some sort of humour. And then, he grabbed me and kissed me…then the spark and shock hit us both. I can feel it. There was just something about remembering that got me on some sort of giddy high and he knew this. He knew me all too well. Jeff's triggers and needs. He knew that if I remembered something, if I acknowledged that something that was so real that made me happy was actually true - then somehow, the sparks of life would hit me too…maybe he just knew me that well or maybe he could see my mind or…I didn't know. I just…I was lost into him now and that didn't matter. I didn't want to know whom I was anymore and I didn't want to know where we were - just that I was in Matt's arms again and everything will be okay. That was just it. That need and that power and that soul alcohol…

And then a the hit of the razor scraping against my skin and a thousand tastes flooded through my lips. Vanilla and rose and ice cream and some sort of life was in my mouth finally. Instead of dry and stale, there was moist and liquid, and I was suddenly full of liquid, melting with his body movement, as if salt melting in water, together, touched… unity and surreal words and kisses and need. That need again blurred my thoughts. There was escape.

"Your ass is mine tonight," he smirked, saying it into my ear. "Come on. Someone's been a bad cat tonight. You need to learn some manners."

And it was more like his words were fire to my ice because I was simply just melting more over it. There was no skin, there was just sweat dripping and bodies touching and want, searing burning want and it all hit us so fast and I was so desperate. I hadn't felt anything for months. The stiffness that seemed to fall down was a nightmare that shed its skin to reveal a dream on the inside. Like flower and water. Like life and death.

He was dominant over my emotions again. Nicely done, Matty. He definitely won this round and he knew this. Licking at my neck, trailing it down towards my chest and his hands running up and down my thigh and suddenly I could taste sugar and glazed doughnuts. Sweet and sweeter…the liquid of my soul getting as dense as honey. There was just panting and Matt laughed, hitting my skin with the blade when I least expected it, slashing randomly and the pain and the kiss and everything was a high. Almost like cocaine, only better really. Because cocaine didn't make a body feel so good…

And the images of whips and chains into my head again. Oh Matt was good at those too. More of our S&M bondage days where the sneaky whip would just find its way towards my ass when I was least expecting, like a snake sneaking into the body…and the chains just meant that I couldn't move when he shoved himself inside of me…and…

"I…need…you…" slow but it felt like I'd said it in nanoseconds. My heartbeat so quick and rigid and my hair full of sweat and the scent of sex was already in the air as he pushed a finger up my entrance. I simply jumped up, legs hooked around his waist and he didn't tumble down but he leaned back slightly when I held onto him for some sort of dear life. Matt hated it when I was just fully naked. It put the fun out of it. He liked it partially, almost like there was something to expose. That would explain why he was unbuttoning my top with his teeth and the fact that he liked me most in skirts. In skirts, he can just push through me without having to take off the exposing cover of me. He admitted he liked to see my skirt flying off sometimes to expose me. He liked that better than me actually taking it off.

"I need…feel…I need to feel you…" I whispered into his ear. I needed it. Dammit, Matt. I really did. He pushed me down again and the fact that I blinked was all it took for Matt to just shove himself inside of me. Matt liked to be unexpected and that never really made him expected. I hooked my arms around my neck. It was like you knew there was something coming but that didn't stop you from being shocked when you'd see it. That was the way Matt worked. I just knew. The taste of salt onto my tongue and him pounding into me. I felt like my hip was going to destroy itself. The mental patient having sex with his zombie brother. If my Father knew this, he'd probably send me to a psych ward ASAP.

He pulled out of me. No, not this. "Matt!"

"On your knees."

I hated him. He gave you a taste of it and then he wanted you to work for it. This was definitely Matt. I wrapped my lips around his cock because really…why else would I be on my knees other than the fact that I'd give him a blowjob? "Yes." Matt nodded at me. "Yes. You know what I want, you whore."

Funny.

I thought I was a snowflake cat.

He didn't cum into my mouth which was natural. He was staring at me with a grin on his face. "Okay."

"Okay? Touch me!"

"No."

"Touch me."

"No. I'm fine. I don't need to relieve myself."

"Yes. You do."

"No, you do."

I hated it when he played this. I slumped my shoulders forward and he shook his head before spearing me towards the ground again. Hitting me over and over again with a an uncontrollable need. That dominance just owned sometimes. Even if I hated the part beforehand. He came into me in moments after that. With the taste of salt and sugar into my mouth, I stared back at him. "So what? No death? You didn't want me to …suffer?"

"Why do you think you don't forget about me?" Matt suddenly asked. I noticed that his hat was suddenly on the floor and he was simply wearing everything again before placing the hat back onto his hand. He looked so polish, as if nothing really happened. I followed him, simply back into my waitress clothing and I stared at him. Our hearts were beating.

I stared back down at the floor. That was the question that was haunting me. "I need to confess that I did something," he simply said, when he smiled at me. "I love my control over you. You feel so…powerless. I tampered. I purposely brought you there to get this clear, lucid image of sex into your mind…mental disorders are often caused by trauma…"

"…you…raped me?"

"First time around. Yes. If you'd like to know. That linked us together I suppose. I was your tie…"

I was speechless. The cold hard stale and dry world hitting me back again in the worst way. The taste of sugar replaced by a dryness and a thirst and the stiffness again restored itself. I just stared. I was in pure disbelief. He just smiled at me meaninglessly. "See you around, Jeff…"

I was still in shock.

Going back home didn't stop me from thinking all of these things. I discarded that waitress outfit and wore a pair of old jeans and a sweater. I felt so filthy, so manipulated and I felt as if everything was just about to betray me and rape me in the back. Rape. Honestly. It just triggered so many emotions and then…nothing but the emptiness. Suddenly, I really didn't know whom I was or where I was but Adam dropped me off my house…or his house…so many thoughts into my mind and this gap of knowledge just hit me with its glassiness…why was I alive? I felt as if I was lost between forgetting and remembering. There was just so…

"Jeffery. It's 4 AM. Care to explain?"

He caught me out this time. I stared at me and I just couldn't help but shake my head and go to my room. He questioned me but I said nothing. He stopped after a while and I knew he decided to pick on it in the morning. I watched that movie again. Alice in Wonderland. Nothing could get me out of the thoughts that was lurking in my head and then I just went downstairs and I saw a cat. It was a black cat.

I screamed. I literally screamed because I saw a cat. It was more of a release of anguish and nicotine and I grabbed onto its tail and it looked so scared with those green eyes. A reflection of me…a reflection of me…did it have my memories? Why could it remember and me not? I just…it was spiralling so fast and so quick and the knife didn't really bring me pain. Maybe it was when my Father came downstairs and I was staring up at the ceiling and I heard him scream so loudly because I stuffed a cat in my stomach. I know Father. It was stupid. My memory wasn't in my stomach. I should've stuffed the cat in my brain…_stupid. Stupid. Stupid._

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**Wow, this thing is like 4,832 words. O_O**

**Anyway...**

**Let's cut to the chase, babes.**

**Happy early Merry Christmas birthday New Year Eve thingy to Kassandra! :3 She still holds a VERY significant place in my life and always will ^_^ if stuff happens, she's one of the first to know. And she's the big 1-8 soon and she's now going to say: ...I can't even fucking DRIVE yet. I love her. X3. In a platonic sense of course! :D **

**I can't really stay and read TB _ which I want to...since my Father wants the laptop in 5 minute! D=  
**

**AND... because I'm a double-gift kinda gal. One for Christmas, one for birthday thing... I did a 10 minute doodle! **

**http :/ codyrhodesfan. deviantart . com /art/ Uncertain-190153759_ (hates links; take out the spaces)_**

**X Sam.**_  
_


	33. A Day To Be Alone Part 2

**I'll probably extend this in a full blown fic.**

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Title: A Day To Be Alone - Part 2

Summary: zombies were extremely strong and ruling the Earth…then there was Mark Calaway, a vampire whose willing to overthrow all zombies but has to face his dead love. Brian/Mark.

For: KitKat! :3 Merry Christmas…?

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Mark's POV_

I rushed towards Punk but what I saw slightly made my stomach calm down. John was simply staring at Punk, whom had woken up right now and was staring at him like John was some sort of bliss. "Punk," I called out to him, causing Punk to stare at me with a grin that was just so wide it hurt my insides.

"He's not real, Phil."

Phil's face didn't drop. "I know." He said, his tiny hand pushing through John's hair. Mark stared at them and was speechless for a moment. John was lying his head onto Phil's chest to hear his heartbeat before nodding towards Mark. Mark knew that that meant that Phil's heartbeat was regulating. Mark smiled warmly. Phil was looking around, happiness fading and they instantly knew who they were thinking of.

The bathroom door was open.

Mark could almost remember Brian sitting on top of the sink like a frog, with extremely flexible legs, blow-drying his already perfect hair, the water running and the towel being gripped towards his chest by his other hand. Phil could almost see it too, since Brian didn't keep his grooming life unbeknownst to people. He could almost see Brian giving up halfway and allowing the half-wet hair to dry itself. The blue towel around his adorable silhouette and those hazel eyes that were burning with some sort of happiness. He could see him, almost like a photograph hung up unexpectedly.

Lost. He remembered Brian's brittle nails when he was sick, gray and peeling and his shut eyes and that slow mechanical breath and those sticky tear-stained cheeks and he remembered Brian screaming "I hate you!" over and over again and he remembered him turning to one side and shivering in coldness in the dead end of the night…

_Peering over towards Brian's side, I could seem him shivering in some sort of shattering coldness. Arms around his shoulders and teeth-gritting and shut eyes and wrapping his blanket all around himself. I stroked his shoulder. "Mark, I'm so cold."_

"Mark?"

Phil's voice dragged him out of his memories as I stared at him with a weak smile on my face. "Rest assure, Brooks, you don't want to hurt yourself. Come on, John. Let's go and practice a tad more before we all rest."

John stared at me with begging liquid eyes.

"He can keep me company." Phil suggested, with soft eyes.

"He's going to drink your blood and tear you in half." I snapped at him, causing John's face to look troubled as he followed me downstairs. John stared back at the stairs almost like it was an enemy before he stared back at me. Returning upon the lab, it seemed like all the commotion about Jeff's kiss to Matt had gone…but the thoughts were still around them. Chris kept darting a look over at Adam, almost as if wondering if he'd kiss him too. Shannon did the same, his eyes glued to Mike's figure. It distracted them from performing to their best.

"Look, I created you all to fight! And fight you shall!" I roared with some sort of dark edge to my voice. "John's the only one that's trying to put up an effort and that's only so he can stalk Punk up there."

Phil stared at John and I stared back at him. There seemed to be a hint of envy in Phil's eyes but due to my tension, I ignored it, staring back at Jeff whom looked saddened by the fact that he started it all. I hauled Jeff over towards me, almost breaking my powerful vampire's arm, staring at him with angry eyes. "So, Jeffery," I started. "What got you to start kissing?"

"I finds…" Jeff blinked. "I finds it."

"What? What did you find?"

Jeff moved towards where he'd used to sleep and threw the wood away, showing him what looked like a bunch of old socks and thrown away tires. Jeff leaned down and cupped a frame, coming back towards him and showing it to me. I stared at it for a long moment.

_A crash of glass hitting against the floor. "Brian?" I asked, walking downstairs to look at him, grabbing onto a chair and shedding tears like they were no tomorrow. _

_Brian bit down his lower lip and pressed his head against the brown chair that seemed to have a hundred beige designs and patches of dark brown where it stained from Brian's excessive crying. "S-s-s-so…m'…cold…"_

The thing that he'd broken was an old photograph of their engagement. The ring twinkling into his finger and he was just so healthy at that point. Two days later, he'd gotten a fever, then that fever turned into something that ravished heat from him…slowly burning him into coldness. Mark I think it was so serious when I'd first heard about it but seeing Brian's reaction, I was completely and utterly shocked. Apparently, iciness itself can drive a person to insanity.

Jeff leaned down again and pulled out an old gray sock. Pulling the golden object out of the sock, and suddenly I can hear Brian's laughter all over again as my hand reluctantly reached in to hold Brian's ring. His precious ring. Instantly, I regretted so much about it - its price, its colour, its diamond size…stuff I hadn't really thought of before. I just thought of how pretty this ring would look like on Brian's finger when the sun hit just right…

I stared down at it and Jeff stared at it too, trying to determine a value for it. My heart swollen with pain as I hit the ring on the opposite of the wall. It meant nothing. It meant nothing at all. I'd rather have Brian than the ring. I'd rather have Brian than Jeff standing before me. I'd rather have Brian alive and would give up my soul for it and nothing else could tell me otherwise.

Why did he have to be the one to die? Why wasn't he the one that died and left Brian? Brian could move on…he couldn't…and that ring…wasn't even pretty enough for Brian's finger. My baby…my poor Brian…dead. The thought still made my stomach lurch and my head pound. Why was I the 'lucky' one to survive? Staring at my Brian burn himself into coldness until coldness finally killed him on the inside… the tears, the glass shattering…Brian…

"Mark?" Jeff called out to me.

"Yes, Jeff?" suddenly, reality's hit was harder than I'd expected, staring back at Jeff whom was holding the ring again.

"…bad thing?"

"Bad thing." I responded, causing Jeff to throw it back into the ground and shut the piece of wood, hammering it. The picture still in my hand, a broken memory with broken glass that pitied my greater heartbreak. And just to think, that in the war, I'd have to face my Brian, my dead Brian, in that zombie state…most zombies looked exactly like their human half, but their feelings were different. They were vegetables with anger issues as I'd like to say. A dead body and a face and all of the anger and vengeance in them spurring into their minds, replaying over and over again until they were nothing but blood-thirsty, hateful and spiteful.

But I heard the sound of the door breaking and that was just it. No time to prepare longer. Hold our breaths and fight.

Jeff pounced into action almost instantly. Trying to prove himself. My Testafies were cold in storage and John was protecting Punk with all of his might, staring at him with some sort of dynamic hope that felt almost like sweet security. Randy and Evan teaming up as a hard duo against zombies and I was trying to fight without scanning the crowd for my Brian. Ted was munching onto him as lunch rather than power-hating zombies.

Jeff's hand flying towards the zombie-version of him, tugging at the zombie's pink-green hair and then biting into his arm in a more so blood thirsty manner. That killed him instantly as he did a back flip and tackled a Matt-zombie towards the ground, eating him with a ravenous fever. Jeff licked his lips and reached for a child to finish off the meal for him, biting at his brain was just enough to cause the gooey pink fluid to depart and her eyeballs to fall onto the floor. The best thing about vampires was that the blood-thirst got to us sometimes and that we'd do anything to drink anything. I only tackled whomever approached me, observing the battle with intensified eyes. The afternoon…me and Brian's favourite pastime. The sun gleaming so brightly. It wasn't time for a war. In movies, wars were late at night. Not in the burning sunshine that was about to depart from the world.

Ted was pouncing onto three or four at once, biting into five sometimes in no more than thirty seconds. Evan and Randy wrapped each other with a belt, one facing each direction so they weren't held down by surprise. Anyone who'd bounce at them or who'd try to hit him were just torn to shreds in moments. It was like a buffet more so for them. Zombies had the same supply of blood as humans, only that their supply was much less tastier than a real human one's. As Brian would tell me, like cold ice cream turning into liquid, better eating it solid than liquid.

No. I will not get distracted by yearning for the distant past…

John was doing a wonderful job of protecting Punk. Punk was holding onto John's shoulders with his weak hands but he could still grip on tightly. John hurt anyone whom was 100 feet near him. He was attacking everything and was just so protective of Punk.

Adam just kicked their heads off by his harsh kick and ripped their heads off, the blood spluttering all around and the colour red was seeping through so quickly. Then…I saw my pretty little Brian. Just as flawless as ever. More real than a photograph. My heart pumping times faster as Jeff tried to approach Brian. "No!" I screeched toward him. "Jeff, not that one!"

It was a moment of weakness. Like a teenager telling himself that he'd procrastinate but would end up doing it. I sprinted towards my darling Brian, staring at him…so perfect. Eyes so angry and hateful. Almost like he'd start pouncing on me too now. But the afternoon sun hit his skin so perfectly.

"Brian…"

_Bringing a plate of hot soup towards a shaking Brian, he grabbed onto the plate, staring up at me with hopeful eyes as he drowned himself in extremely hot soup. His skin blistering but his entire body was still shivering. "So…s'cold…m'…so cold…" shaking and shivering and the bowl onto the floor and him staring at the soup almost as if it betrayed him._

"Promised I'd keep you warm, Brian…" I whispered into a soft voice.

And as expected, he did pounce right onto me. His pretty blonde hair in front of his face and an angry face as he bit down at my face but I pushed him off in the lightest manner ever. The sun…skin so flawless… "Brian…?"

Grabbing onto him tightly and suppressing him into my arms, standing up, staring at the dead land. Brian was fighting away from my grip. I felt so sad, that he was trapped into my arms. "Warm, Brian?"

Brian's eyes were staring at me.

"It's over." John said, staring at the field across. Half of them had no heads. Most of them were bit through their stomachs. Punk's face looked hopeful.

I stared back down at Brian who was nibbling onto my hand. Vampires were hard to killed and Brian was just such a weak zombie. A weak human, a weak target, would always remain weak. Brian was just trying so hard to hurt me. Just so…perfect…my heart burning into some sort of happiness and some sort of sadness. "Gwendolyn, Brian…Gwendolyn's dead. I'm sure she misses you." I said to him, watching him bite down my arm, almost like he couldn't understand me. I stroked through thick blonde hair. That beautiful hair…still smelled the same. I caressed him, stared at him, it only felt like seconds… "warm, Brian?"

Brian stopped nibbling and stared back at me with those wide beautiful eyes. My throat was dry and my heart was pumping. "Brian…?"

Brian simply nodded before blinking repeatedly and those eyes shutting down again. I laid him down at the throat, no emotions, no thoughts running down my head, just staring at him with that dry throat and the water underneath my eyes and Jeff moved towards me, sliding the ring into Brian's finger. The rest just gathered around to stare at him.

_My arms around Brian's arms. Gwendolyn sleeping right beside us as Brian smiled warmly, humming softly to himself. "Kinda cold."_

"_I'm holding you, Brian. Isn't that enough?"_

"_Shouldn't you be cold?"_

"_Normal human temperature, Brian. Stop reading _Twilight_." _

_Brian turned around to face me, nuzzling into my chest and smiling that pretty little smile. "S'kay now…I'm warm."_

"_Love you."_

**XD. I got so emotional. XD. UNFAIR. **

**Merry Christmas KittyKat. It's a semi-happy ending in my point of view! At least Mark isn't "NO, MY BEAUTIFUL BRIAN! DON'T DIE ON ME AGAIN!" XD…shockingly.**

**X Sam.**


	34. Ampuate RavenJeff

Title: Amputate  
Summary: oh, weight loss is just the beginning of them. Raven/Jeff. Jeff tops. Raven bottoms.  
For: _Demoniac Bastard Scorpio __**  
Note: sorry if Raven is OOC or something. I can't actually watch TNA D; doesn't air here.**_

* * *

It's just an act. Or rather, it's an act that becomes reality in the end.

In stage, he's just that perfect unbreakable person that everyone knows and when the curtain closes, he's someone else's bitch. He's Jeff's bitch actually. Jeff Motherfucker rainbow haired Hardy. And Raven's his slut. Oh God. The sheer, cold irony of that. Raven doesn't say anything about it when he drives home and he's attacked by Jeff halfway through. Maybe because he likes playing the slut in the end.

His arms around Jeff's neck as he kisses him near a car and when Jeff takes off Raven's clothing in public, where anyone can spot them but it's the sheer excitement of being in a position like that that attracts Raven the most. Raven's hands are around Jeff's hair as he says his "…you're not doing it hard enough. What are you, Hardy? Man or mouse?" and the faster, the harder, the better. He'd push him up Raven's own car and they'd play that game again and they're both naked and pressing and Raven would reach down to pick up that pretty little knife. Raven knows that little knives are the best. They're so precise.

Bigger knives aren't used for things like that. Raven twists his hands around Jeff's hair and cuts it off and Jeff does the same to Raven's locks. Maybe it's the sheer fun of actually cutting _something_. Raven doesn't think he's fat but rather cutting off little things in his body make him weigh less. He's all just made of blood and water. Maybe he just wants to be thin enough to fly with the aid of only balloons. Maybe it's the pain. He doesn't know but he doesn't like his weight. He doesn't like feeling bloated. He wants to cut it off.

That's how he and Jeff met.

Both of them wanting and in need to cut some weigh so they do it in that pretty little fad diet plans and Raven doesn't really care much for fad diets but the feeling of the hunger and the pain is just excellent. It's somehow the feeling of hunger that makes him want to diet all the time and Jeff follows him in that need but Jeff's plan is mostly to lose weight. Raven's plan is to feel the pain. Two different ambitions but that doesn't mean that they're not doing it in the same way. Jeff's found that pretty little diet that's all about cutting and Raven is more than happy to oblige.

Jeff's donated a kidney already and he's lost some weight of course. About three pounds but that doesn't matter. A pound lost is a pound lost. Raven loves watching the operation, only because he's waiting next to do the same thing. He asks them not to use any narcotics and they just stare at him and he bribes them and the pain is just so good… he remembers when the knife first cuts, almost like art, the knife sliding down to reveal something that everyone has, the things that binds all humans together. His eyes onto his own pretty little kidney. It's all pulpy and white and just looked so pretty that Raven resisted the urge to hold it into his hand and splatter it with a simple mush of light pink, sweet pink, purple and red. He just stared at it almost like it was a set of jewellery that he finally got a chance to see. Almost instantly, he felt giddy and happy and the pain was just so overwhelming that his entire heart was beating times and times faster but that didn't matter because it was all worth it. The tiny pink organ was around what looked like red layers of skin and the Doctors didn't miss Raven's look of enthusiasm when they slowly cut his kidney. It was like a climax of a movie. The pain looked sharp but it hurt more than he could imagine. He drowned into the ecstasy of the pain. He stared at them with a happy expression on his face.

Raven still remembers that pretty pinkness of his kidney and the look of it. The way that the knife cut it to reveal some sort of clear liquid that simply covered the entire kidney as it glistened like a pearl.

Another thing that Jeff did was get a liposuction around his thighs. Raven had also followed his league. He watched Jeff, asleep, doing it and he longed for what each step would feel like. Burning into reality again but at the same time drifting away…just perfect. Another bribe and the Doctor allowed him to watch. The marked him before the liposuction. The feeling of cold before the knife and the pain combined and it was just so…it made him feel just amazing. He didn't care about the fat that was lost but knowing Jeff, he still murmured "10 pounds" after the surgery was done and they weighed themselves. There was something just so glamorous about staring at the marks and the scars. He wished that they'd stay there forever. He simply smiled at them warmly every time he saw them. Everything that seemed to tell a story.

Now it's come to the climax of their doings. Jeff had given Raven the knife and pointed towards his leg before nodding towards him. Raven stared at Jeff's smooth leg. It's almost 2 AM and the world seems slightly hazy but the blood lust in Raven still hadn't subsided as he stroked Jeff's leg, something he likes to do before he starts. "No," Jeff stops, shaking his head and then kissing his lover. "I'll do you first, Raven."

Raven nods slowly and Jeff gets on top of him, kissing Raven's neck first, slowly making his weigh down towards Raven's leg. They've got their equipment. Jeff slowly moved towards Raven's body and then pulled out his object. Jeff cuffed his lover and stared down at his body again, inspecting it before he slid down lacy white underwear. Raven didn't say anything and Jeff wore his own blue one. Jeff stared down at Raven's underwear and stroked his thigh before pulling out a surgical thread.

"You don't want me to do a ligature for you, do you, Ravy?" Jeff asked him, twisting his finger along a very tight line of Raven's underwear. This is why Jeff insisted on him wearing underwear. He locked the shockwave of the slight pain that Raven had when the band hit his skin and Raven didn't object. Why would he? He enjoyed it if anything.

Raven shook his head. If Jeff tied the thread around his leg, it would stop the bleeding and Raven wanted to bleed. Badly. Jeff started to slowly cut a basic run through Raven's flesh and he exposed Raven's muscle and bone. Raven stared at it almost as if he was being blessed as the pain overtook Raven's body with every touch the scalpel made to Raven's muscles. He transected the muscle, tearing the pink from pink to showcase the blood underneath the muscle itself. The sweet pink flesh made Raven's heart almost stop in admiration as he stared at the tiny purple vessels as they burst. Jeff gleefully stared at it and then back at Raven, giving him a tiny kiss and bending over towards the open leg, causing a wavelength of pain to overtake Raven's smile. It felt so shallow yet so real, and so perfect. Jeff kissed Raven's muscled flesh, where he transected it and Raven's entire body ripped in some sort of anguish at the simple touch. Jeff had taken out an oscillating saw, and pushed it right through the bone, cracking and breaking it into smitherins. The sound and the melancholy was all that Raven could feel and all he could see was a hazy sort of vision.

"My Ravy is not right in the head." Jeff said, almost as if he were, batting his eyelashes in a 'I know that it's obvious' manner before a smirk played upon his lips. "Does it make me insane that I enjoy doing this? You get off pain. Doesn't mean I don't get off of giving you pain…I'm sorry, Ravy. Or rather, be thankful. I don't know."

Jeff increased the intensity of the oscillating saw, causing the bones to break as quickly as in a second, the pain so sharp and so quick that Raven sat upright and a look of shock into his face. "Raven?"

Raven's hands were around Jeff's face and he kissed him. Maybe it was the fact that their hearts were beating fast and the sweat was falling off and the pain was just throbbing in amounts of boulders and elephants instead of simple stings, causing Raven's body to feel almost immobile. Jeff pulled his lips away from his lover's and put his finger through Raven's hair.

"Hmm… _Raven, my turn_."

A sick smirk burned into Raven's lips. "Yes, sir."

* * *

**That was pretty pointless but fun! 8'D**

**X Sam.**


	35. The Jericho Family Tradition ChrisAdam

Title: The Jericho Family Tradition  
Summary: "Why don't we go there for Christmas this year, Chris?" Adam's face was filled with some sort of burning happiness.  
For: _txrockgirl. _Tragic and angst? I can do that ;D

- T h e J E R I C H O f a m i l y T R A D I T I O N -

They've been together for almost two years.

Adam would find himself taking his Chris to the Copeland family and they'd praise Chris' moisturised flesh and his pretty eyes and Chris would look almost disgusted but Adam wouldn't know why at those times. A compliment was a compliment, wasn't it? Chris had the prettiest blonde hair and just the most gorgeous blue eyes ever and just the right shade for his skin tone but whenever Adam would compliment Chris on anything, Chris would look like he was close to vomiting at Adam's words. He'd whisper and cajole for him not to say anything about his body.

Other than that weird factor, Adam and Chris lived a life everyone wanted. They lived into a house that held too many memories from the Copeland family, the Canadian flag stapled on and Adam could remember the days that Randy and him would come over there just to try and take down the flag only to be forced to put it back again. It was behind a board so they simply stapled it, causing Adam's Mother, Betty, to go into a complete and utter rampage but it was fun whilst it lasted. He made a room just for Chris once, he put in all of the elements that Chris seemed to link: strawberry candles, the walls were decked with a shocking shade of blue and he'd had a fridge installed with Chris' favourites and the bed was lacy and pretty and yellow. "Just like your underwear, Chrissy," he'd once whispered into Chris' ear.

It was only after a year of them staying around that he noticed that Chris had stranger habits. Whenever he'd eat porridge or soup, he had to use a specific spoon; it just had to be golden and tiny but when he'd eat meat or poultry, he wouldn't use a knife but still with a habit of a spoon, a huge silver one and when he'd eat potatoes or carbs, he'd use a big gold one and it was like that anytime. He wouldn't eat in restaurants unless he'd bring his own spoons. He didn't know what was the significance of a spoon to Chris but it was in Chris' room, a painting of his three spoons. Adam laughed when it was put up but Chris looked shell-shocked, almost as if he wasn't expecting Adam to notice.

Now they were engaged.

Chris had his head pressed into Adam's chest as they stroked his arm. "Hmm… tomorrow's Christmas," Adam noted, almost as if it wasn't obvious by the ten feet of snow out there and the icy blizzard that hung in the air but it was still a subject of conversation.

"Why don't we go there for Christmas this year, Chris?" Adam's face was filled with some sort of burning happiness.

Chris' eyes slowly peered open. "Where?"

"Your parents' house."

His face paled again but Adam learned to forget that. "Come on, Chris! They don't even know we're engaged. I've never met your parents. And they can't be that bad. Everyone's parents is a little weird…"

Chris didn't say anything as he slowly nodded his head. "They are a little…bit more than expected…weird…"

"Chris." Adam pouted at him. "I want to meet your parents."

Chris nodded softly, as if still considering it.

"…and…so…?" Adam said, stroking Chris's back softly and kissing his forehead. "When will I see these great parents of yours? I'll tell the cab driver to get there right away."

Chris wanted to object but no words were coming out of his lips. He seemed almost frozen by it.

"Hey! Taxi driver. Jericho household…I heard everyone knows it."

"Yeah. About 20 minutes from here…"

Chris shut his eyes tightly and started trembling softly.

"They didn't…hit you…did they, by any chance?"

Chris' eyes widened into huge pools of blue but he shook his head. "What? Adam! They weren't like that!"

Adam stared at him coldly for a moment, pushing Chris' back into his chest almost too harshly. "Then why can't we visit them? Are you ashamed of me, Chris? Is that what's it? Hell, don't you think I'm ashamed of my baby taking out spoons in front of everyone at cafes because he doesn't want to use any other utensils? What about that? You're weird, Chris. You like white chocolate dipped strawberries in honey and you pale at everything I say! Well, if you weren't abused, why are you not letting us see your parents?"

Chris was silent for that moment and said nothing at all. He was a disgrace to Adam. A disgrace. Again.

"I heard they were okay with your sexuality." Adam finally said after some time. Chris nodded his head. Hell, they wanted him to be gay. They were thrilled when their predicament was true and their Jericho turned out to be gay. Chris was silent throughout the ride but his heart was beating too quickly.

- T h e J E R I C H O f a m i l y T R A D I T I O N -

"Oh, Jeri!" Natasha Jericho grinned at him, staring at her son with gleaming teeth and a happy gesture as she hugged her son whom was wearing Adam's oversized blue sweater and his gray scarf. Chris formed an uncertain smile and it melted slightly when Natasha turned to Adam and hugged him. "How are you both, darlings?"

"Well!" Adam smiled warmly, shooting a look at Chris _'why didn't you want us to come over?'_

Chris said nothing.

"Hey, Chris-o-boy!" his Father, Ted, hugged him tightly and sweetly. "How are you today, boy? You haven't written to us in a while! Is this the new one? The one you're engaged to? Wow, he looks sublime!"

"…you know he's engaged?" Adam cracked a smile.

"Yes! Of course! Chris told us everything when it happened!" Natasha smiled sweetly, grabbing onto Chris' hand to view the ring and she gasped in shock. "That's a beautiful diamond! I can't wait to see the wedding bells and the children!"

Adam's face was full of shock. "…children?"

"Yes! Of course! Didn't Chris tell you that an old Jericho family tradition was that you have children after a week or so of marriage? I've had Jeri after a month! Too long but I'm sure you'd be lucky." Natasha's blue eyes gleamed thoughtfully as she stared at her son. "He's a hermaphrodite, my poor Chrissy! I thought it was special and the fact that he can get pregnant just made me go through nights easier! I can't wait to see my grandchild!"

"He can…what?" Adam's eyes widened.

'_This is why you didn't want me to come…'_

Chris looked like he was going to explode from pinkness and the tension in the air was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Adam didn't say anything but merely smiled at her. They were told to settle down and they had, in Chris' old room, which looked quite plain and horrible-looking at that point since the posters were falling and the little toys were scattered around and Adam shut the door the minute that they entered.

"Hermaphrodite? Pregnant? We've had sex before, Chris! What would've happened if you got…? I can't even think about it!"

Chris didn't answer.

"You aren't…no way! You aren't, are you?"

Chris shook his head as he stared down at the floor with those sad blue eyes that made Adam's heart melt from anger into pity and sympathy for his beloved. He sat down beside Chris and stroked his face. "It's going to be okay, Chris. I love you. But I know you have a male's lower body part and you don't have any breasts…?"

Chris didn't respond at all.

"Okay. It's a touchy subject but you'd tell me about it one day, right? Hopefully?" Chris stared at him with those hopeless eyes and Adam simply shut up, holding his Chris close to him until it was time for dinner as Natasha announced. They both walked downstairs and sat down beside each other in the table. Adam then noticed that they themselves had the same thing that Chris had, they ate the same way that Chris did…it was just tradition. Adam simply followed them and ate and did the same thing they did and laughed at their jokes even if their humour was a tad bit dry.

"We need to talk to Adam, Chrissy."

Chris' eyes were full of horror as he nodded his head and bit down his lips. Closing his eyes in some sort of prayer, Adam simply held onto Chris' hand and grinned at him. "Are you pregnant?" he repeated into Chris' ear and Chris stared at him for a moment before shaking his head. "Chris, I'm not joking with you. If I know the truth…"

Chris stared at him before shaking his head. He just wasn't. Why was Adam suddenly obsessed by it? He felt like a freak again as he walked outside of the room, leaving Natasha and Ted and Adam alone in the room. Ted smiled at Adam. "Just wanted to show you another Jericho family tradition…we are obsessed with kitchen utensils as you see. Three spoons. Three forks…but…"

Ted's smile turned into somewhat of a twisted one. "We only use one knife."

- T h e J E R I C H O f a m i l y T R A D I T I O N -

Sobs escaped his lips as he hugged Adam tightly to him. Adam was barely breathing right now, his breaths were so rigid that Adam didn't know how to think. He was staring at Chris, suddenly realising the real reason that Chris didn't want to him to come. Ted had slashed him up pretty good, his stomach hurting so badly and his head felt like it was gone to mush. He slashed up his arm too but nothing would ever refrain him from hugging his Chrissy.

"Well, my sisters are twins and they just died ten years ago. I don't mind really. I'm just…I'm going to see them." Adam tried to make excuses and tell him that he was really happy that any moment now, he might die. Chris stared at him. Blimey. Chris had the prettiest blue eyes…

Almost just like…

Chris blinked. "Vanessa and Velvet." He said in a very quick voice. "Found in a well later on, slashed in their stomach, missed their hair and eyeballs and your cousin, Zoë, that was skinned alive."

Adam's eyes widened. "You remember that?"

"I'm going to marry you…at least…" Chris shook his head. "You want to know the truth? My parents killed them. My parents grabbed onto both Vanessa and Velvet and killed them with one hit to the stomach, it went through both of their stomachs. Vanessa's hair was torn to shreds and so was Velvet and their eyeballs were missing. Their muscular organs were onto the pole that they were using. They were turned inside out."

Chris's sobs subsided but sticky tears were running down his face. "Zoë was slowly skinned to her death. It took her three hours to die. It was just so slow for her. It's like dying after torture…"

Adam's face was solemn and full of shock.

Chris stared at him. "You call me beautiful."

"…you are beautiful!" Adam's face was glowing with sweetness. "You're the prettiest thing I've ever-"

"Adam." Chris' heart was pumping quickly. "There's one last family tradition you don't know about. Do you know why I don't like to be called pretty?"

His heart beat was accelerating. He was scared of the result.

"I love you, Adam."

Chris closed his eyes and said the words in a clear, lucid voice.

"I was born an extremely ugly child, Adam. My parents…think that there's nobody good enough for me…they wanted to make me pretty…" Chris' eyes were full of tears and he was sobbing again. "I-I-I'm Zoë's flesh. I'm Vanessa's eyes. I'm Velvet's hair. I'm wearing your dismay, Adam. I'm…I love you…but you can't love me. I'm not Chris. I'm Velvet and Vanessa and Zoë all mixed together in some sort of macabre puzzle…I…"

Adam took one last deep breath, cupped Chris' face harshly. "I'm crazy because none of that made me hate you…"

Brown eyes shut tightly and everything was motionless.

"Chris, darling!" Natasha's voice was bellowing sweetly. "What did I tell you about sitting beside corpses, dear? You're going to smell horrible! Now go find yourself some pretty little clothes and we'll get you a proper man this time…not one of those filthy Copeland's! Go on, dear!"

Chris shut his eyes for a moment. "I loved Adam."

"That's nice, dear. Now, which coat would you like this time? Blue or green? I think blue really brings out your eyes…"

- T h e J E R I C H O f a m i l y T R A D I T I O N -

**I actually like the turnout of this. XD.**

**X Sam.**


	36. Blood Knife Nightmare MarkPhil

Title: Blood Knife Nightmare  
Summary: "Sweetheart, don't move, okay? I'll be back in a minute." Mark went into the kitchen and heard a crash; hearing Phil grunt and watching him cringe. Jeff rushed over to his side, holding his lover's hand. "Jeff…?" "Jeff?" Mark's eyes were staring at him. His pretty baby was imagining things.  
For: _browngirlwrites_

_~ B L O O D! knife nightmare ~_

Phil had been having a fever for weeks.

Phil stayed at his room for weeks but the fever just got worse. The Doctor said it'll fade away and that pissed Mark off that they wouldn't properly diagnose his baby. Phil was curled up into a ball half the time and his fever just seemed to get worse every time he was touched. Phil seemed to be remembering something but he wouldn't tell Mark anything half the time. He'd hear Phil's giggles and sweet cajoles.

Phil's childish happy nature was absent for years. They'd been married for about a week right now and Phil hadn't had the same glow in his face when he was asleep. Mark adored every inch of him and seeing him so happy made his heart ache since he'd known he wasn't the reason for Phil's overjoyed happiness but along with the ache came some sort of rage.

Mark stared at Phil whom looked quite sick with his gray skin and his bloodshot red eyes even if he seemed to be asleep almost every time he walked in. Phil stared at Mark's face with a sweet smile on his face. Phil's stomach roared. Mark realised it was his cue to get the hungry Phil some food.

"Sweetheart, don't move, okay? I'll be back in a minute." Mark went into the kitchen and he'd barely left the room before hearing a crash. He raced over back to the room, his heart beating as he stared, hearing Phil grunt and watching him cringe.

Mark rushed over to his side, holding his lover's hand.

"Jeff…?"

"Jeff?" Mark's eyes were staring at him. His pretty baby was imagining things.

"Jeff?" he repeated again, giving that sweet giggle and stared at him with those lively eyes. His skin was still gray but was more radiant. Phil himself was more radiant. Mark felt a pang of pain. The reason that Phil was so happy because he was remembering his two-week relationship with Jeff, before his suicide. Jeff specifically said in his suicide note that he didn't want anyone to bury him since he wanted his body to still be exposed in the same room. Then the rage masked the pain but he couldn't bear to hit his beloved and at the same time, he wanted to burn the knife through him.

After calling the Doctor, the Doctor simply stared at him before telling him that when Phil's eyes were closed, he obviously wasn't sleeping and now he was sleeping but with wide, awake eyes and Phil was also abusing narcotics as he'd realised from the stash underneath his bed so he might be in that state for a while now. His dreams were projected to Mark's reality and Phil thought he was dreaming. He thanked the Doctor promptly before returning to Phil whom seemed to cock his head.

"Do you remember that horrible nightmare I had?" Phil asked, his voice really soft and sweet but Mark didn't even remember Phil mentioning a nightmare, then he remembered that Phil thought he was Jeff. Phil blinked for a moment before telling Mark everything.

"There was this knife and it killed me. It killed me so bad, Jeffy! It ran through my heart… Do you believe that, Jeffy? Hold me, Jeffy." Phil's face was full of bliss.

Mark had never felt like he belonged any better.

For the next few days, Phil was telling him of nightmares he'd previously had and they were lost into another reality. Mark was holding him all the time, kissing his cheek and Phil seemed so in bliss, and Mark didn't mind being called 'Jeff' anymore even though it did tick him sometimes that he was thought of as nothing compared to Jeffery Nero Hardy. Then the day came when Mark found him deeply in sleep. The Doctor said that he was due to wake up and remember reality again.

Mark's heart was filled with a sigh and a burning sadness, knowing that Phil's face would return to being full of longing and apathy and he can never catch his attention again. His heart burned with a despair and desire to have Phil love him. But Phil was in love with dead Jeff…Phil…Mark plopped his body up and just thought of something. With a playing smile and insanity driving through, Mark escaped the room.

_~ B L O O D! knife nightmare ~_

"Mark…Mark…" Phil murmured into his sleep.

He felt a hand shaking him and he slowly opened his eyes to see Jeff standing there, looking slightly more tired than usual. "God, Phil, a second there I thought you were cheating on me with another man."

Phil felt flustered. "Just woke up from a long, long dream…another nightmare I think…you were dead."

Jeff huffed. "Better than that blood knife nightmare."

Phil smiled sweetly and said that he was going to go shower. Jeff moved towards the mirror and stared at himself, fixing his hair back into a ponytail before biting down his lower lip. Mark had switched his body with Jeff's. It was just so wrong and so evil and he can't really get used to living in Jeff's body but that happiness in Phil's face - when he realised that marrying Mark was just a dream and that they were back together again…

That type of happiness was a drug.

And Mark would get high on his drug any time now.

He realised he had to tell Phil.

"Hey, Jeffy, wanna take a shower with me…?" Phil purred.

Someday.

Maybe.

Jeff smirked softly. "Coming, baby!"

With a slight pang of uncertainty and pain, Jeff drifted away towards the bathroom and he realised in the end that it might just be worth it to see his pretty little ravenette in the shower with those sweet olive eyes and that curved face and the blood knife nightmare might've just begun because when Phil realised the truth, it'll all stab him like a knife in the back.

"_There was this knife and it killed me. It killed me so bad, Jeffy! It ran through my heart…"_

_~ B L O O D! knife nightmare ~_

**...XD. Maniac!Mark.**

**Yes. I'm updating on all my requests and trying to finish all my Christmas stuffz too. :3 Thanks, midears for reading.**

**X Sam.**


	37. Addict ChrisPhil

Title: Addict  
Summary: one kiss and they were hooked for life.  
For: browngirlwrites

- **ADDICT**_addict_**ADDICT **-

Another kiss. Another snort of the cocaine that brought their souls together, getting them high on just love, nothing more. Love, which was thought to be nothing but innocent and sweet, bringing them together in a thrash-bang violence that they both never thought they'd end up in. Phil's lips were burning into its reddish tint from a heavy make-out session with Chris whom was staring at him with lusty eyes.

"You know, lust is a sin?" Phil reminded him, licking his lips in a very 'I-love-your-taste' sort of way.

"Ha," Chris shook his head, bringing Phil closer. "Speaks the lustful maiden?"

Phil giggled softly and then wrapped his arms around Chris' neck, bringing him closer. Chris had never felt more alive but with Phil's touches, he can't help but feel overexcited, as if a static shock just went through his body and he'd just hold onto Phil forever and push his hands into Phil's top, feeling the flesh of his and Phil giggled, resting his head onto Chris' already bare shoulders. "Lust is a sin, Chrissy…" Phil repeated, batting those eyes almost innocently.

"Oh really?" Chris repeated, taking off Phil's top and massaging his shoulders.

Phil said that he was once sexually abused but Chris wouldn't believe it. He seemed to be melting at Chris' touches like butter…it was cruel, he knew, to not believe his lover about a serious statement. And note, Chris mentally added, lover. Not boyfriend. They were sex addicts, that was all it. Can a sex addict even get raped? Chris shrugged. He didn't think so.

Phil's tongue was into Chris' lips faster than ever, massaging and the heat was just so bad, Phil's arms wrapped around Chris' neck and their hearts pumping and Chris' fingers playing with the elastic of Phil's pretty underwear and not another word was said as Chris slowly whipped away the underwear, leaving Phil clad in nothing. They now matched, skin on skin, flesh on flesh, birthdays suits all around.

Phil smiled at him sweetly before kissing Chris again, their hearts pumping very quickly again but Chris didn't say a word as he pulled him closer, pushing his finger into Phil's entrance. Phil was slightly tight but not as tight as when they'd started ten months ago, obviously. They'd been meeting on the rooftop every night but it was never a relationship. Hell, Chris sometimes didn't know how old Phil was, there was nothing but lust and desire, love was just out of the equation.

Though Chris would say he'd grown found of him and sometimes, he did find himself daydreaming about Phil. Not his ass nor his perfect backside, and he'd be dressed in those cute little PJ's, holding onto a dog and petting it skilfully and Chris wouldn't once think of tearing off his clothes at that moment. Maybe a little comfort managed to find its way towards him. His sexual dreams seemed to decrease less and less and he'd find himself thinking about the scent of Phil's flesh, which was a blend of apricot and peach and just a hint of cherry blossom. The perfume he'd always worn. Chris was attracted to him, like a bee to a flower but the bee would never admit to the flower that there was something more than just the underlying lust that burned through them when they touched. Maybe Phil knew since Chris was never late for a meet-up, even when he had to wake up early the following day. Chris blinked. He knew he'd fallen hard for the ravenette, because really, the taste of him, the scent of him, the pretty eyes…he looked like he was a fantasy. It was like he was really a butterfly.

But that didn't matter. Pretty sex was sex. That was just it. That was all they'd ever grow into. Nothing more. Chris sadly tried to accept that fact and he was winning over his desire right now. He was nibbling onto Phil's neck at first, causing him to jerk forward so that Chris can get a better taste of the salty flesh that was already sweating.

Chris' bites turned hungrier and hungrier and his touch was more demanding as he rammed Phil down with a quick need for lust. It felt as if his body was moving electronically, the feel of Phil was just simply demure and perfect. The wetness of Phil caused Chris to try and not orgasm at first go, as he pushed out as slowly as he could. He continued this process before Phil stared at him with angry eyes, demanding more of him.

"Or…?" Chris responded.

"Harder. Faster. Come on, Chrissy."

"…really?"

"CHRIS JERICHO!" Phil stared at him angrily before Chris laughed and pushed as hard as he could inside of Phil, causing him to shriek with some sort of pleasure and warmth invading him but that that still didn't calm his desire. He wanted more and the shockwave of pleasure wasn't enough. Chris hit again unexpectedly, causing Phil's face to burn in awe and warmth.

Phil felt Chris push in and out for the what felt like hours and Phil wasn't complaining. The longer, the better. Phil tried to reach for Chris. He wanted to hold onto something. Their bodies were out of control, jerking on the inside uncontrollably with sweet warmth and pleasure, almost like the first taste of warm soup onto a freezing night or the first lick of a popsicle in summer heat. It was just like losing himself into another world.

Chris came and Phil gasped softly.

Chris' eyes instantly went to Phil, where he was just full of blood. The sight made Chris' stomach twist. But this never happened before! In two months…? Phil was crouching down towards his underwear and slid down the black, tight piece of fabric before standing up, the blood still at his knees as he walked towards him. He looked almost sophisticated and if it wasn't for the hyperventilating and the almost tearful look to his eyes, he'd be perfect for playing a part in a movie.

"Lust is a sin." Phil repeated, between breaths.

Chris stared at him with a confused and worried face.

"LUST IS A SIN!" Instantly, Phil tackled Chris and stroked through his hair and those pretty little olive eyes of his were just much more sharper and darker as Phil's teeth bit into Chris' neck. They were nibbles, but harsh ones and no blood was coming out.

"Sorry…Chrissy…I'm…lust is a sin," he repeated, staring at him with those cold blue eyes. "It's a sin, Chris. You know? The seven deadly sins…? I'm one of them. I'm Lust itself and you don't love me. I'm just penetrating through your brain and making you want me. I'm making you kneel to me like my servant as my own pleasure and yes, I have been raped. I'm dead. How did you think I died? In Hell? Come on, Chrissy. Come with me…"

"You were raped to…"

Phil gave out a small smirk. "By you. At the age of 12." He said with a cold voice, staring at him with angry eyes. "Lust is a sin, Chrissy…lust is a sin…lust is a sin…lust is a big sin…"

Phil pulled out some sort of knife and Chris gave him one last kiss, remembering that 12 year old boy. He didn't even know his name. He was severely drunk at that point when he hurt him and he didn't know he died from it. He didn't know how he fucked him though. He remembered a knife and he remembered a Sharpie and he didn't want to connect the dots. Chris was addicted to lust and now lust was betraying him.

Chris stared at Phil, whom had those sad little eyes, the same ones he had when he was 12 and his knees were trembling and the blood was spilling and the black hair turned blonde hair, and he was that adorable little 12 year old boy again, with a knife in his hand and slightly shorter. A smirk to his lips and the silver knife hit sweet flesh fast enough…

"_Repose en paix…" _

- **ADDICT**_addict_**ADDICT **-

"_Repose en paix…" = _**rest in peace in French. Well, browngirlwrites wrote '& maybe a Jericho/Phil one? **Por favor?**' In her review so…;D decided to include some French. Yes, I am aware that 'por favor' is in Spanish but I am not Spanish. XD. Nor am I French but I know French more than I do Spanish. ^u^**

**Thanks! Baiii xxx**

**X Sam.  
**


	38. Frosted CenaMike

Title: Frosted  
Summary: in the end, it's just fake, sweetheart. Mizena.  
For: _Aly_, TheMizMagnet :D  


* * *

  
Michael Mizanin loved frosted cookies. Especially the frosted gingerbread ones. That was just about the only thing that John Cena really knew about Mike off set. Also combining the fact that Mike wasn't a real brunette, that was just about it. On a delightful afternoon, where the sun hit Mike's skin in that oh so sweet manner, John's eyes drifted towards his face, where his soft blue eyes were glittering amongst the light, dancing and playing with beauty. It was just…magnificent. John hadn't really noticed how fragile Mike looked like amongst the beautiful light, almost like the light can just go through his skin and break his flesh - like a faerie, a vase that can be broken.

It seemed like Mike's eyes shone all colours of the rainbow. That was the only thing that John could picture whenever he saw Mike nowadays. He loved it when Mike wore soft colours but that was really rare. Although when he actually wore the palettes, John said that his heart might've stopped because the sun and his skin and his clothes would be dancing away in this angelic fantasy and he'd be so shocked that nobody around him was staring and gaping at Mike in awe.

It was then again that he'd been taking to Shane when he'd taken a glimpse of him. He wasn't interested in Mike. He was in love with Mike's graceful beauty more so and that would never really be enough. Shane was showing him a light purple object that was incredibly tiny and had a thousand flashing lights and colourful wires and Shane told John that he could hold it. John wasn't sure of what it was exactly but he was holding it too tightly because it just exploded in seconds and there was a ray of fuchsia hitting towards - Mike.

John's heart was beating but Mike's eyes were full of some sort of pink liquid before it melted and his eyes were sparkling even more than before. Like a beautiful jewel shining in the light, some sort of hope and beauty filled them like ever before, a strong emotion of love and affection and short, sharp breaths escaped Mike's eyes but they were barely noticed because his lips were in a full-length smile as he stared back at John Cena.

"…oh. Oh no!" Shane exclaimed, his eyes fixated upon Mike's angelic too happy face, that just defined love. Love. "It's a love ray, John…and I guess he saw you first…" his voice was uneasy.

John just watched as Mike swooned toward him with a smile on his face as he embraced him quite tightly. John let out a nervous laugh but on the inside, a thousand butterflies fluttered but then it all hit him in the head - he wasn't supposed to enjoy this, he was supposed to see it as some sort of horror that Mike wasn't allowed to love who he wanted to love…but inside, there was just pure selfishness burning through John. After all, Mike saw him first…and there just had to be something about John that Mike loved…wasn't it? A love ray just intensified love, instead of creating it from scratch, right?

But John could remember…

It was a cool night. John tried to remind himself that all those cheesy romance movies happened at night as he pulled out his book again and stared at it, feeling young and foolish. It was a scrapbook in which he usually wrote designs for upcoming Cena shirts and gimmicks for his wardrobe, but now, there were doodles of Mike and him, and scribbles of 'John Cena loves Mike Mizanin' and he put it onto a table, staring at Mike, whom was laughing with John Morrison about something. Off set, the duo were quite close, much to John's dismay.

John walked towards Mike and Morrison, smiling at them. He was just about to ask Mike for a date, but then Mike stared at Morrison and Cena. "Sorry, John, I barely have time for a chat. I've got a date to get ready for! I've got a minute though." His eyes were just shining so brilliantly and happily that John tried to find some sort of solace in them. His hopes were crushed and his heart was broken and he felt like nibbling onto those pizza bagels again to numb the pain that was destroying him in half.

"Yeah…just wanted to see if Morro here wants to go for a drink. My drinking buddy ditched me."

Morrison nodded his head and walked with John, not knowing the ache and the pain that was burning through and through.

Those next few days were just perfect. With Mike's arms around John's shoulders as he kissed his cheek and nuzzled towards him. He remembered making Mike cheese quesadillas and watching him munch on them happily, savouring every bite of it, almost as if it was food from the Heavens rather than made in 10 minutes. He loved the way that he was munching on it, only a silver gleam of white teeth showing when his teeth were biting against the pita. He remembered seeing Mike slowly sliding off the black shirt off his shoulders to show the pale skin above it and the blush that crept upon his skin when he realised that John was watching him before a soft kiss onto John's lips. He'd seen Mike shirtless so many times but the way that the black shirt was slowly slipping, with the light reflected onto his flesh and the eyes glittering in that subtle sweetness.

John's heart would swell in glee every time he'd feel Mike's warm arms around his neck, holding him tightly, almost as if he was afraid to let go but when they'd go to sleep and John would hold him close, the empty feeling of his body was just horrible and his heart was beating way too quickly at those times where his mind would whisper 'he doesn't really love you. It's a spell.' He knew it deep down that it was just some sort of spell he'd cast on Mike, that Mike didn't really love him but he was just full of selfishness. Mike was just too precious…

John kissed Mike's forehead, so warm and sweet. Then at that time, Morrison walked in and kept on shouting "Mike, you're engaged!" but Mike seemed to wave it off and tell him he loved John Cena and that he didn't care about Randy and him getting married. John Morrison told him that Mike had only a few nights to think it over because he couldn't keep lying about where Mike was and that he was making a big mistake. Then Shane rung him up and told him that he'd gotten the other part of the machine - he told him that it just took the effects out of the love ray, and that Mike wouldn't hate him.

Mike was staring at the window that day, with a soft smile on his face.

"Last day," John reminded him. "To go back to Randy…"

"I don't want Randy! I love you!" Mike grinned sweetly, taking sips of hazelnut coffee. John's guilt burned a thousand times even though his joy also multiplied, there was a guilty feeling that was combined with the happiness and warmth. John simply smiled back at him and then took out the dark purple machine and with a blue ray, it hit Mike. Mike blinked before he looked at John and crashed down the coffee mug.

Mike stared back at John Cena. "Go," John smiled. "You've got a wedding to plan."

Mike looked confused. "What am I doing here?"

John shrugged. "Just a little…fluke. You thought you loved me but really, it's Randy that's waiting for you, to marry you. I'm going to be there too…watching you two wed. I know it's going to be great…Mike?"

Mike hugged him tightly. "Thanks. I was a little confused about marrying Randy anyway…a part of me was just saying that he might make me miserable even though we have an amazing relationship. Wedding blues, maybe?"

John nodded. "Now go."

"Of course!"

John walked out of the room with him. He reunited with John Morrison and John Cena had a blonde tap against his shoulders called Bailey, probably someone he'd fucked when he was drunk but Bailey simply smiled at him and produced him a notebook. His notebook. With the doodles and scribbles. He'd forgotten to take that before due to hearing about Mike going out with somebody… Bailey kept on gleaming at him. "That brunette over there gave it to me."

John's heart almost stopped when he realised that 'that brunette' was Michael Mizanin of all people. He moved back towards his room, his heart beating wildly into his chest as he'd thrown the book opposite of the wall. He didn't even care. He slept onto the floor that night, thoughts of killing Randy Orton and somehow living a happily ever after ending with Mike but he wanted Mike to be happy, even if he had to suffer. When he'd woken up, the pain was just too much for him to actually think about going to Randy's wedding. John grabbed onto his book and spend hours looking at those tiny doodles he'd made of him and Mike and a coldness crept into his heart ass the longing intensified.

Then, just as the moonlight touched the paper, John's eyes fell upon a page. 'John Cena loves Michael Mizanin'. John's eyes were blurring with unshed tears but then his eyes went downwards and his heart almost stops. 'Michael Mizanin loves John Cena too' scribbled away into aqua blue…John just stood up and ran towards the alter. He'd known it was probably going to be full of people and he didn't want to do some horrible ending and he'd walked into Mike's room, only to see three things: a soft purple machine, the love ray, onto the bed, a Mike onto the floor with his intestines out of his stomach and a bloodlust into Randy's eyes and frosting onto Mike's already frosted soft pink lips, looking in bliss and asleep.

* * *

**Didja get that? D:**

**Randy used a love ray on Mike before John did T_T Mike actually LOVES John Cena, which explains why he had a battle with himself about marrying Randy or not and the notebook. Then Ran killed him whilst Mike was eating a cuppycake. :D He died happy because he knows at least John loves him. ^u^ **

**X Sam.**


	39. Damages MattPhil

Title: Damages  
Summary: There's just something about Phil…ChipMUNK.  
For: Monica

* * *

"Dinner's nice."

"Yeah. Guess so."

Matt bit through the too-cold mashed potatoes as he watched Jeff. It was dull all around them. Some sort of air of misery banged into them. They heard the sound of the doorbell and Matt shrugged and told Jeff to wait whilst he opened the doorway to reveal an excited Phil staring at him with sweet eyes. "How's dinner?"

"Boring. Dull. The usual."

"Oh no! I'll help."

That was it. Phil was their stalker. They never really liked him but that was because Phil was so happy and bubbly all the time that it hurt that he was so happy. He wanted to kick him half the time back into reality, where there was nothing to be happy about. His Father who worked late and his dead Mother was just a shock to Matt's system as he mechanically made dinner that night. He watched as Phil stared at him with those too happy eyes before walking into the gloomy, sombre living room.

"Ew! Dinner looks horrible." Phil bluntly said. "I'll help you! Give me your plate, Jeff. I'll go fix it up so it has a bit of spice."

Jeff pushed his plate towards Phil and he'd taken it, staring back at Matt with a sweet smile on his face before taking his plate in the other hand and trying to balance them whilst he walked into the kitchen to try and fix them a proper dinner. "Insane." Matt whispered under his breath. "He's fucking mental. Nobody's that happy."

Jeff shrugged. "It's kind of cute," he offered a soft smile in honour of Phil. "Plus, he makes the carrots taste really good."

"Jeff!" Matt exclaimed with those angry eyes. "You think I wouldn't be able to make the carrots taste great if I wasn't too busy replaying in my head how empty I feel since I'm so alone?"

That shut Jeff up. Every day Jeff would hear that, knowing the cause of the problem. Matt had to do everything for Jeff and never really got time for himself. He didn't have any friends and sure as hell didn't count Phil as a friend. Loneliness followed him and stuck to him like a scent, lingered into the air after he went to sleep with hopeless dreams and saddened nights.

Phil returned with the two plates and stared at Matt, blinking. He looked so alive compared to them, both of them looked almost dead and he'd turned around, pulling something from pocket and munching on it before sipping the tea. He sat back down towards them with a soft smile on his face. "How are you both?"

"Fine." Jeff replied, trying to somehow match the enthusiasm in Phil's voice but failing to.

"Great." Matt's voice was laced in cold sarcasm.

Phil just continued on beaming at them, almost as if they were as happy as he was. Phil sipped his tea silently before saying softly that "well…I drew something for Matt."

That was something Phil was known for. Loving art and hopscotch in the cold winter evening. Matt remembered seeing him and calling him just crazy for watching him in shorts and a tank, playing in the snow, as if the place wasn't freezing and he wouldn't catch anything later. He took too many risks. Matt didn't know why but he always seemed to. Matt watched as Phil gave him a piece of folded white paper. "What do you want for Christmas this year?"

"Why? Didn't get gifts yet?"

Phil shook his head.

Matt shrugged. "I don't know."

Jeff smiled. "Free time for my brother."

"Like that'll lever happen." Matt retorted, staring at Phil with soft eyes. "What about you? What do you want?"

Phil stared down at the floor. Matt expected something like 'world peace' and 'love' but Phil just stared at him. "I want a jacket. I'm cold."

"Hope you get one."

Phil nodded.

The awkward night was up to end when Phil stood up and walked out. Matt took Phil's folded white note and threw it towards the floor, not even bothering to throw it into the trash can. It seemed to be going by quite quickly because that morning, Matt walked toward Jeff, whom was holding a blue box into his hands.

"Phil." Matt just instantly known.

"No."

Matt stared at Jeff's face with huge eyes. "What?"

"Phil's parents sent these. Phil had them for a year."

"What about Phil? What happened to him?"

"He's dead."

"Dead? How can he be dead?"

"He had cancer apparently."

"But he's so fucking happy…how can he be dying and happy?" Matt asked in a soft voice.

Jeff had a grinning smile onto his face. "You know, Matt…maybe Phil wasn't happy. Maybe what Phil had was a damage…a very, very strong damage…"

"What do you mean?"

"It starts out the childhood memories all flooding back. A hit of a very strong damage caused by something…you know? And then he just goes insane. He's all happy all the fucking time and he doesn't even know why and then…he just thinks of blood. Sweet, sweet blood. Cancer and dead but…" Jeff grabbed onto his eyes and pulled out his contact lenses.

Olive eyes replaced green eyes and a smirk.

"Phil. You killed Jeff?"

Phil blinked. "I wanted a jacket…I was so cold…" he whispered in a soft voice. "But I'm not cold anymore!"

Matt stared at him for a while.

"I'll fill the emptiness, Matty…please…just give me a chance…I love you…"

Matt just stared at him with wide eyes. "But Jeff-"

"He's happy."

"You've got cancer."

Phil shrugged. "It doesn't matter. Nothing matters anymore, Matty. Just be happy. Live for today. Be happy. Be insane." Phil pulled out a jump rope from the blue box and stood up. "Come on, Matty, let's go play some jump rope!"

Matt just stared at him with a fake smile on his face.

Phil gave him a peck on the lips, staring back at him with soft eyes. "Come on, Matty, let's go and play!"

"Let's hope you don't turn colder…" Matt said, laughing a nervous laugh. Matt stared at the other boxes. "What is in there anyway?"

Phil blinked. "Jeff's heart, his lungs, his spleen…his insides. Because it's what's inside that matter in a gift anyway. It's a gift…to Heaven. He's a good kid, Matty. He just didn't want to live anymore."

Maybe it was stupid enough to burst into tears but Matt did. He stared at Phil, crying and screaming what felt like a thousand years of tension and pain before he grinned at Phil, walked out into the blistering cold and in the warm sunlight, got lost in memory.

* * *

**Sorry. It's 4 AM and I'm quite tired. XD.**

**Goodnight. Merry Christmas, peoples~! Exclude any spelling mistakes in the piece. Gah. Too tired. _  
**

**X Sam.**


	40. Catastrophic Vengeance MattJay

Title: Catastrophic Vengeance  
Summary: sitting underneath that pine tree, Matt plans his ultimate revenge on the people who've doubted him and Jeff's on the top of the list.  
Type of horror: mental horror; light horror [more angst]  
For: Rose 8'D

* * *

Matt curled up onto a ball. He was freezing. He was wearing nothing but old boots, shorts, and a hoodie. His legs felt the furious ice burn them into coldness as he shivered, trying to keep some sort of warmth into him. It was much easier a year ago, when he was sitting here with Jay Reso, his ex-boyfriend whom had drifted away from him. He was wearing the same clothing but the fact that he had real human body heat to share…snuggling to Jay's sweet words into his ears, enough to melt him over into liquid.

The cold snow fell over towards his face. He could almost hear Jay's laugh again as he walked toward him but there was nothing. He was alone. Just like he was when he'd gotten his first surgery…when he'd gotten the invitation to Jay and Chris' engagement…when Jeff decided to push him farther away. He was alone and he laughed to himself. Maybe he'd buy himself a gift and pretend someone gave it to him, just to fill a little bit of the hole of loneliness that burned into him. He felt suffocated by the loneliness and numbed by the cold.

"_You know," Jay told him that year, stroking Matt's face. "I promise that every Christmas we should meet here…for a kiss or two, you know? It's kinda romantic. I think it would be something nice to remember…feeling your lovely face into my hands again…getting closer to a kiss…" _

_Matt laughed as Jay closed the distance between them and sealed Matt with a kiss. "What if we're not together?"_

"_We'll always be together," Jay grinned at him. "You're my boyfriend, Matty. I've known you as long as I've known Adam. I love you. I'm sure of it. There's no force in the universe that can break that."_

"_You're right," Matt nodded his head. _

"_Meet together here again next Christmas? At midnight? And then a kiss to just forget the world?"_

_Matt laughed and embraced Jay tightly. "Yes."_

The silence was enough to tell him what Jay felt about him right now. But then again, they made that promise when they were together, when they were in love with each other, smitten and drunk into their own winter wonderland, but the spell broken and Jay probably thought that it wouldn't matter for him if they'd met up or not considering they weren't together. Promises were just fake and fragile. Matt walked around the trees, kicking around stones and feeling nothing but the sadness burning into him.

He needed this…this pain to somehow devour him. He wished he had alcohol. It was so much easier to forget himself into that liquid, but he was alone, and had nothing to face other than the cold, harsh reality, slamming him into darkness and numbing him by coldness.

Matt wanted revenge, he wanted some sort of vengeance…but then again, it just felt so fickle. The love, the world, the kisses that Jay used to give to him, fake and fickle…he felt as if his soul was just attached to that pretty little part of the world and it wanted to remember nothing but that. Matt wanted revenge. It was burning him into ice.

And Jeff was on the top of his list.

Not Chris. Not Jay. Jeff. It was Jeff that wanted Chris to get together with Jay, it was he whom knew that Jay and Matt were together at first and there was some sort of "I don't approve of this" look on him because apparently, Jeff didn't want Matt to be happy. He skipped through a few roads, and found himself falling into the freezing ice of a pond it was. He stood up again, trying to shake the frostiness out of his body but it just didn't seem like it was possible.

He returned back to that pine tree, seeing as the temperature there was warmer than it was nearer to the pond and his eyes caught the 'Jay Reso + Matt Hardy forever' carved by Jay's pocket knife whom thought it was very cheesy and high-school like. Matt stared at it for a while before he felt a hand onto his shoulder. Matt looked back at whom it was and realised it was none other than a strange man. "Kid, it's not wise to stay up here, bears and all…hurting you…?"

"Let them maim me to shreds."

"…er…harsh break-up, I'm getting?"

"What break-up?" Matt blinked, staring back at the man with the emerald green eyes. "You know how he broke up with me? He sent me an invitation to him and Chris' wedding is what! Fucking bastard."

There was more pain towards his words than there was anger but he wanted to thrive onto the anger.

"My brother must be happy. It's almost like Chris is his brother! I'm going to march right up to him and tell him that he should at least support me more and it's not like I don't exist!"

The man just grabbed onto his arm. "No…you don't want to do that."

Matt was just about to walk toward them when the man grabbed onto his hand and walked towards him, hiding behind a bush near the tree as the man poked his head out and nodded toward Matt. "Chris and Jeff are coming here."

"Why are they coming here anyway?"

"To…honour someone."

"Honour Jay's golden ass."

The man simply burst into an angelic laugh, bringing Matt close to him. And as the man had told him, Chris and Jeff, were walking toward the pine tree, staring at the same thing that Matt had been staring at. The 'Jay Reso + Matt Hardy forever' engraved onto the tree. Chris smiled warmly. "It's just so wrong…you know?"

Jeff shrugged. "I know. Jay and you…I hadn't even told Matt that he was adopted…that he was Jay's cousin and that you were my brother…Jay's family just freaked over it, you know? When they realised that Jay was dating a relative close to him. Those Reso's…it doesn't matter if it's a really distant family member, they just don't like it when relatives have any type of relationship and Jay thought of marrying Matt too, it wasn't just a fling…that 'no relatives marrying' thing… probably the reason why Jay's sister looks more like Heath Slater's sister than his own."

Jeff gave off a nervous laugh and Chris stared back at it.

Matt's eyes were bubbling with tears. "But-but…but…how could they do this to me?" he said it into a soft whisper that only the man beside him can hear. Matt turned to look at the man. "How did you know that that was how they looked like?"

"Kid, they come here often. You know? I live around these parts…that Jay kid and you…must've had a real good relationship. You see they come by here often…talk about it…"

"But why? Why talk about what Jay can't have?" Matt's voice was still too soft to be hear by anyone other than the man. "He's getting married for fuck's sake. Nothing makes sense. Well, he loves me, but apparently, I'm now his cousin and his parents don't want us together…but why are they thinking about this? Why won't they somehow arrange a way for Jay and I to be together…? I don't get why Jeff wants Chris to marry Jay."

"He doesn't…I'm sure so, kid. Look at him. He's spend years thinking that you were his brother. A bond that strong isn't going to break, is it?" the man smiled at him, fixing his dark green hat and staring at him with those fixed emerald green eyes.

Jeff sighed, leaning against the pine tree, "rest in peace, Matty."

Rest in peace…?

Matt turned towards the man whom just looked at him with sad little eyes. The man finally took off the green cap, showing off cut blonde hair and took off his contact lenses, showing off sweet blue eyes. "Look," Jay whispered, his voice soft. "Matt, I didn't want you to know like this…before you died…you thought that the way that Chris and Jeff were bonding was all too brotherly and he really wanted to tell you. You took it out on yourself. Told yourself…"

"That I'm not good enough…" Matt's voice was soft.

"On your food. On your face. On your body. On your mind. On everything. You just changed everything and it killed you. The cutting did. Nobody could've known and I was known as that stupid oblivious boyfriend that killed you. Then Chris said, 'well, I'd marry him'. Jeff and him organised a wedding, and told me about it. Told me it was the best way to get over you…they tried to make it so that you hadn't really lived…they were in so much pain because they knew they were the reason…it's just…I can't believe I didn't notice the scars…didn't notice you crying…didn't notice any of it. I thought it was some sort of phase that would just oblivate…when I heard Chris and Jeff talking…"

"Why can you see me? If I'm dead, then I'm a ghost and you…"

Jay blinked softly, cupping Matt's face. "I love you. Apparently, I'd kill myself for you. I didn't want to marry Chris. I want you and only you. I don't know what caused you to go psycho…they told me you kept on seeing everything like a blue-and-black horror scene flashing before you…I just wished…I really wished…that I could've saved you from killing yourself but apparently…"

Jay laughed nervously. "I made up for it, didn't I? And I'm here tonight and I love you, Matthew Moore Hardy and I always will."

But Jay would never tell him…

"_It's your fault Matty is dead!" Jeff screeched at him, throwing a phone toward him but Jay dodged it, staring at him. "It's your fault! You made Chris and the world believe something else! You killed my Matty! You…Jay Reso, you're sick."_

_Jay stared back at him. "Yes." He said, in a definite voice. "I drugged Matt with narcotics, and I brought the bullet to his head and he thinks he did…and two months after, I killed myself. I wanted to suffer too. This world isn't our world. He didn't want to die…but he can't know that. He just can't know that."_

**

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**

Okay. Here's the break:

_**Jay and Matt are actually cousins but Matt didn't know that and Chris and Jeff are brothers. So when Matt and Jay had a relationship. Jay's parents found out and told Jay that they didn't allow any type of family relationship, even if they're distant cousins. Matt was killed by Jay since Jay thought that if they couldn't be together in this world, then they'd be together in another one. Then Chris and him were due to wed. Jay killed himself later on and then, told ghost-Matt that Matt had killed himself instead of Jay actually killing him, trying to make him think that Matt wanted to die, when really Jay just wanted them together no matter what.**_

**Ain't love grand?**

**X Sam.**


	41. Life as We Don't Know it CenaRandy

**It is 1:37 AM where I live and I refuse to give up! I am writing my girls the fics. XD. It's December 26. The day after Christmas. I know. ;D**

Title: Life As We Don't Know It  
Summary: he wanted revenge but fear was in the way yet again…and insomnia.  
For: Mischa

* * *

_"I'm scared. I'm just really really scared…"_

Randy felt John's arms around him, as he danced with Randy's body in place, moving and shifting his waist as he kissed his lover's cheek. Randy was wearing the normal day's clothing, gray socks, a blue shirt and plaid pyjama bottoms since Randy hadn't really counted on…leaving the hotel room they were in. The sweet colours of beige and caramel filled the hotel room with its creamy colours and textures and the scent of expensive hazelnut coffee still filled the air.

Randy could almost taste the hazelnut coffee again in his lips as his eyes maniacally searched for everything around him. John was just about to tell him to calm down but he realised that saying that wouldn't make Randy any less anxious than he was now. John didn't really know why Randy was just so psychologically obsessed with anything that could hurt him. He had a fear of being hurt…in every single way. After that fear consumed him, he was a sweetheart to everyone.

He was afraid of anyone's snide comments all of a sudden and was so afraid of normal things; like kitchen knives, which were banned from the rooms they were in. Anything sharp and could hurt him. John had to hide away his pen just because Randy didn't like seeing it…like Randy could just see John stabbing him with a pen…it was all into his head, but he didn't want help and John didn't want to hurt him anymore than he was absent-mindedly hurting himself. He was obsessed with eating healthy. He would eat exactly, exactly 2,500 calories a day and stopped weight-lifting because of the possible side-effects of injury. He hated being in a car since he was afraid of a car crash. He hated being with anyone other than John since he hadn't known them very well - Randy just shut himself away from the rest of reality…living in a fear of getting hurt in any way in life.

John didn't really think of it at first. He thought it was just a phase but it was over a year now and John had to be with Randy all the time if they were ever out and John had to try and be there for him every second of the way. The airplane, the restaurants - although Randy wouldn't eat until he'd known the calorie content of his food. He was just so scared it hurt so badly. He always had eyes that were made of nothing but solid blue terror, almost as if he was waiting for something to happen and half the time, John thought that Randy might just want to get life over with and die but at the same time, afraid of the way he was going to die in. He was afraid of even himself sometimes the Doctors had told John…

He was an insomniac. He just couldn't sleep and no matter what he did, he always went to bed quite late at night. He could go to bed at 6 PM intending to sleep but only to actually go to sleep at 9 AM and wake up only two hours later. He was awake for most of the day and that killed him on the inside that he can't really control it. Like he can't control how attractive he was to people or what they thought of him. As that insane control freak that just had to have everything his way. Randy's life was all dull in its colour and lacked enthusiasm. He was just so…empty all the time. And John knew this quite well.

Then some sort of rage was building up into his eyes. The nights that Randy would murmur to himself into his sleep 'I want revenge' and 'I want revenge'…maybe that was just a little too unhealthy to be obsessed with vengeance this much. The insomnia would get so bad that no type of heavy nor light medication could cure it and at the point where Randy would feel tempted to eat half the bottle and die whilst doing it.

"Revenge on who?"

"Can't you see him? Hurting me?" Randy's voice would return. He'd place cameras all over the place, just to show John that he was going to catch the horrid person's deadly act but John couldn't see anything. John would end up phoning everyone, from Cody to Jeff to Adam but nothing worked. Usually, Ted could bring some sense into Randy and for all they knew, Ted had a funeral two years ago. Randy's habits started a year after that so John realised that there was no link to it.

When John would see them, all he'd see was Randy whom was sitting on his bed and he'd be staring at Randy's figure for six hours, motionless, close to tears. Well, John thought he'd be close to tears too if he had gone so long without sleep and then the break down of him, crying soundlessly. That hurt John's heart more than he could ever describe.

"I can't see anything." John told Randy after a week of Randy taping those nights.

Randy bit down his lower lip, tears gathering into his eyes as he stared at John. "…how can you not see him?"

"Someone's there?"

"Of course someone's there."

John flipped open the tape and looked at it quite closely. Randy was pointing at thin air. "What are you looking at?"

Randy blinked. "Cena."

"…that's me, Randy."

"No, you're Ted."

Randy's head was spinning and he looked quite faint. "No…I…I can't…I don't know…he hurt me…"

John blinked feverishly. "What do you mean John hurt you? I'm John, Randy. I can't hurt you I've been right here. All this time…you thought you were together with Ted?" Then he realised what Randy must've thought.

Randy must've thought he was dead all along… probably the reason why he didn't really sleep. 'I'm already dead, why should I go to sleep?' sort of psychology that playing into his head. Randy…all this time…when Randy was kissing him, letting him hold him…and he thought he was dead. It was John who caused all the fears, all the…horrors until Randy felt dead on the inside. Randy simply hugged him tightly, not letting go of his belief that he was dead and that John was watching him in his sleep, John stared back down, his stomach lurching as the pain burned.

* * *

…**that was weird. Okay. Thank you? **

**X Sam.**


	42. Butterfly Obsessions WadeJericho

Title: Butterfly Obsessions  
Summary: "He was like my little butterfly." Chris smiled, waving his butterfly collection towards him. "It's just so shocking. He's afraid of butterflies but I can't help but call him that. I'm obsessed with them."  
For: April

* * *

Chris Jericho was horribly obsessed with his butterfly collections.

To every state he'd been and every butterfly he'd seen, he'd caught them. He literally carried around both his butterfly nets and an empty collection with him whenever he went and only stored them when they were fully loaded. In a year, he could've gotten up to 8 real wooden collections and he'd been collecting at quite a young age. He loved their colourful, small nature and their delicateness. He loved everything about them.

It was slightly ironic that the love of his life, Wade Barrett, was terribly afraid of butterflies, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He could remember Wade's face scrunch up into paleness when Chris would leave one of his butterfly collections out at a hotel room…Wade looked like he was about to vomit every time he saw one. It was like he was seeing a Saw movie instead of feasting his eyes upon a tiny, delicate butterfly.

"You need to get over your fear" and "only when you get over your obsession" was repeated at least once every week between them. Because of Wade's fear, Chris had to store them into the basement. He always complained that his lovely little butterflies and memories were forced to be in a dark, dingy basement and Wade wouldn't even talk about it.

Wade was afraid of them only for the reason that they reminded him of a tiny doll that his Mother bought him. His best friend had made fun of the doll when Wade first got it for his sixth birthday, claiming that it was both cheap and ugly. To Wade, it was just anorexic. He could see its shape and figure when he undressed her and he hadn't had the hard to tell his Mother that he was deadly afraid of her turning anorexic. Her eating habits were healthy, which was why his thoughts never really came true and one of the girls' bracelets had a tiny real butterfly wrapped around her wrist. Then he began to notice butterflies…tiny, fragile, almost weightless…he could imagine his Mother just snapping in half like a butterfly those days and that was one of the reasons he turned to wrestling.

He couldn't handle seeing or reading anything about eating disorders and gained muscle to fill out his figure. He still kept the doll with him because as much as he'd admit it, he'd never leave Tabitha anywhere. That was what he'd called the doll, after his Mother's dead sister. He just couldn't throw away anything that his Mother gave him. It felt too precious.

When Chris realised this story, instead of sympathising with him, he'd tried to mutilate the doll countless of times but he still saw his Mother in that doll and left it unharmed. In fact, Wade cared for the doll as much as Chris cared for his butterflies. Wade would always dress up the doll in long sleeved shirts to cover up the butterfly bracelet on her wrist.

Their relationship started to depend on their obsessions. In each others' own worlds, they were both insane. Wade found Chris on countless times, under-eating just to spite Wade, and the way that he'd react made Chris feel guilty sometimes. Sometimes. The screaming, the crying, the holding onto the doll and just lying there in bed all day, almost as if his entire world would shatter and Wade was seeing his Mother skipping meals instead of Chris being the one to skip them.

Sometimes, it was all just too worth it. To hear him suffer made Chris feel happy sometimes whilst tending towards his butterflies. Their 'relationship' was destroyed in a matter of months and Chris found himself clinging to butterflies as if they were human and Wade was the actual butterfly. The more than Wade suffered, the more fragile he became, almost as if he was a butterfly too. Chris wanted to love Wade…he just loved the butterflies more. It wasn't his fault really.

Maybe that was when the idea really came and hit Chris quite quickly. He'd put large amounts of appetite-suppressants into Wade's meals so that he'd skip them. It killed Wade on the inside to not be able to eat. Then Chris tampered within his workout hours, going into his sister's clinic only to steal bits and pieces of stomach viruses so that Wade would be too sick to workout. Every time Wade saw a pound drop, he cried himself to sleep. He tried to fight it as hard as it could but going into the gym with the severe type of pain he had in his stomach just made him throw up whatever little food he'd eaten, so he settled for curling up into his bed with Tabitha into his arms as he gave off soft sweet lullabies. His biggest fears devouring him until there was nothing left of him.

But the more weight Wade lost, the more fragile he looked, the more Chris love him. Wade couldn't enjoy that love because he was just too obsessed and frightened for what was to come. Three years later, Wade weighed no more than 120 pounds and because of his height, he looked like he was made of nothing but skin and bones. He really tried to eat but every time he would, he would simply end up throwing up and the tears wouldn't do it any better. The sugary drinks that he hoped would make him gain weight only made him cut calories since drinking one glass made him feel even sicker for days on end. Chris loved him more and more with every bone showing into his body.

Chris held Wade tightly upon his sleep, stroking the skin of his back. Two years ago, Wade was that wrestler that everyone seemed to like and two years ago, he could wrestle. Now, Wade couldn't move to the bathroom with the pain that was in him. The viruses had finally mutilated the part of him that desired to eat. "You'll soon fly, fly, little butterfly…" Chris smiled warmly, looking at Wade, whom was holding Tabitha quite tightly to his chest. "I know I'm a jackass but in the end, I love you and that's all that matters, right…?"

Chris stared at Wade's skin, where his spinal bone was showing quite right and with soft voice, he finally pronounced. _"…right?"_

**

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**

Apparently, it's a slightly open ending since…well, Chris hadn't really killed Wade and is kinda doubting himself in the end. I think most of us are probably thinking that Chris saved him or something. You decide the ending. It's pretty open to me.

**X Sam.**


	43. Happy Birthday Massacre, Mike MorroMike

Title: Happy Birthday Massacre, Mike  
Summary: John, whom previously had an eating disorder, and Mike, whom is trying to cut down on an alcohol and drugs problem, find themselves in the midst of Mike's birthday massacre. Song inspiration: birthday massacre  
Type of horror: motion horror; mass murder  
For: SaveTheRamen, Alex :3 John belongs to her. XD.

* * *

"I think I hear footsteps, Mike."

That wouldn't be so scary if moments ago, John hadn't woken up Mike at midnight to announce that it was his birthday and that he made him an extravagant chocolate cake. The thing that made Mike happy was that John was actually eating with him, the laughter in the air before the footsteps were heard by John…the silence burned and the footsteps still continued.

Mike heard his Mother shriek which caused him to sit up as he threw the fork and plate onto the floor and the taste of sweetness suddenly tasted all too bitter and John instantly held onto Mike's shoulder almost as in comfort. Mike didn't even notice John's hand, lost into his thoughts. Half of the cake laid there mocking them, the festive feel suddenly out of their minds and Mike slowly moved towards his closet, John following him and he looked down, realising that Mike kept the alcohol bottles around. John didn't even bother asking him if he was still on the alcohol. He remembered that this was a bottle of vintage wine that was drunk on his parents' wedding, which the Doctor said was a trigger for his excessive alcoholic behaviour. It was linked to a real memory.

The other few bottles were ones of his more important days in life, one of them being a bottle that John and Mike had shared when they'd had their first kiss. They hadn't really finished it and what shocked John that the bottle was untouched. They'd taken two sips before the kiss that day and Mike bottled the alcohol back up. John smiled warmly but when they heard the footsteps, they'd found themselves curling towards each other.

But the footsteps just disappeared and there was no more screaming. They'd stayed there for an hour before they'd slowly opened the door and saw that there was nobody around but on the half-eaten cake, there was a black tape there, with a white ribbon on it, blood-stained in all its glory.

Slowly, Mike walked up to the tape, and tore it off and stared at it before he shoved it into the VCR, not hesitating to but when the scene popped out, he instantly regretted putting the tape back into the VCR. Mike was holding up a bottle of champagne, with bloodshot eyes and draining the bottle. He was in a tank and torn pants, laughing at everything around him before he leaned towards a cold pole with a drunken smile presented onto his face. More little chortles before Mike found himself twirling around and looking down from the bridge.

"This is where we met, John," he was taking to thin air but that didn't seem to cross his mind as he stood up onto the bridge, staring down at it. "John…" he said, twirling upon the bridge.

"Mike, no!" John said on impulse, scared for the figure on the screen but Mike still kept on twirling and then falling. The sight afterward wasn't as pretty. The almost-weightless-looking Mike had hit a huge rock and the impact of falling so high had cracked Mike's spine in half. John stared as Mike's upper spine sliced up his shoulder and his eyes were shut in moments. The bottle came crashing afterward, jagged pieces into his face, digging through his little eyelids. He looked like a broken angel upon rock.

"…no…" John's eyes burned with tears. As fake as it was, it looked so real. Even if Mike was standing right beside him. The fuzzy black and white image came and with it, came colours. There was John, severely malnourished, cutting an apple into tiny pieces before eating each piece on its own.

It wasn't long before he dashed towards the bathroom and stared up at the bathroom. Apparently, it wasn't his bathroom since he couldn't find any purging tool. He walked towards the kitchen and grabbed onto the nearest thing with a point and shoved it down his throat. Almost instantly, the knife pursed towards his throat and little liquids of blood fell from his throat before he simply fell, immobile. Mike was shaking, tears spilling from that fake image before them. "I'm okay, John. I know I am!"

"Me too…we're fixed and whom thought that was a good joke…"

"Joke?"

They turned around to a Mike that had various scars upon his face and had a hat to cover up his skull probably and his spine still pursed upwards. Beside him as John, whom had bandages around his neck to cover up the damage and he looked pained and fragile.

"Joke?" the Mike with scars repeated, letting out a howl of laugh. "You know what? Shockingly, that Mike didn't die. He went into a coma, barely alive. Tried to flush the alcohol down his system…and his Mother came here every day and told him stories about times that alcohol was not an addiction, but a simple pleasure to him…which explains the bottles in Mike's closet."

Cut throat John nodded his head. "And this John didn't die. He also just went into a striking coma. Both only four hours apart from each other."

"If you're our subconscious," John said, staring at them. "Then why are we both seeing this? We're only four hours apart from each other. I couldn't have heard of Mike slipping into a coma…could I?"

"Unfortunately, Mike really hurt his head and they thought that surgery was needed. They did something quite drastic by stitching both your brains together but it helped even strengthen John's recovery of his throat…" scar Mike shrugged. "You know? I don't know how long you've got before you actually open your eyes…and we both know it'll be tough that you're stuck to each other but at least you're together forever."

**

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**

Yays? :3

**X Sam.**


	44. Cupid's Decapitation Arrow BrianPaul

Title: Cupid's Decapitation Arrow  
Summary: Cupid wants to stir up some trouble by making Brian and Paul London fall in love with each other but Cupid's arrows aren't so…sweet on the heart. Paul/Brian…?  
Type of horror: relationship horror, innocent horror  
For: Jackie :3

* * *

The arrow hit them two days ago.

Cupid wasn't really a figment of people's imagination but people tended to make things seem beautiful when they weren't. Cupid's arrows did something alright…they made two people fall in love but there weren't so many pretty results because of the fact that the type of romance that was coaxed up was indeed quite twisted. Cupid hadn't been able to hit anyone for over a year because of sickness so he got to work at picking a person and that was when he had seen the blonde smile towards a white cat.

Cupid saw some bits and pieces of Brian's past and picked his love interest. And he changed their schedules and thoughts so Paul London and Brian Kendrick both met at a frozen yogurt shop near the escalator. When they met, the arrow hit through them and he made sure that they both saw each other in that glance of a moment. It stared out quite casual and then it evolved into a make-out session. But the fake love had to be built on something.

To them, it was built on frozen yogurt.

Not bad, right?

But Brian liked his frozen yogurt topped with cat eyeballs all of a sudden and Paul decorated his with a drizzle of blood and human veins. It was sick and twisted but it was them right now. Besides the frozen yogurt and the kisses, they really didn't spend that much time together. Brian felt as if it was something he had to have in life, Paul but he didn't know what to do with him. He loved those moments that they'd eat in but nothing more. He'd love the kisses and the soft glances they'd give each other but afterwards, there was nothing but knots of emptiness into his stomach.

Paul, on the other hand, almost saw Brian as a housewife. Waiting for him to fix food and watching him swish his hips into his jeans and he could almost imagine Brian cleaning the house too but there was nothing more than that. It was more of Brian's role in Paul's life that got him interested in Brian. That simply added to Brian's emptiness and humiliation since somehow, when Paul asked him to wear those cliché aprons and liked watching him work around the tiny place they rented, the sadness manifested itself into the horror of Brian's addictions.

But Brian was the first to actually fight. Cupid observed that.

Brian tried to calm down the addiction, tried to not obey Paul and tried to actually enjoy the sex that became more like rape. Brian started to actually fall for Paul in the end, not fake love but he started liking actual things in him. The flicker of colour into his eyes when he ate and the way he licked the spoon…those little things that made him love him.

It wasn't quite long until Brian's spell broke but Paul's still remained and Cupid found himself immersed into their case. It was hard to break a Cupid spell, if not impossible and Brian found Paul's excessive habits of treating him like a tool rather than a loved one too horrid to be spoken off. This caused Brian to get some sort of anxiety whenever he woke up in the morning, aching from their sex and cliché 'I love you's that were exchanged between them.

It was only after a month had Paul's addiction worsened. It freaked out Brian sometimes that he'd find Paul eating more of those frozen yogurts, topped off with chopped off arteries and veins and human blood and the way that his face enlightened with those bites made Brian scream sometimes. Paul treated objects more precious to him than Brian. Maybe that was why he'd broken down.

"Please chop me off, Paul." Brian's hazel eyes glittered. "Eat me…I don't want to feel so worthless anymore…"

Paul didn't even really care when he'd slowly mutilated Brian into pieces but Brian looked like the happiest thing in the world. His sweet little eyes. And Paul ate him, ate him like there was no tomorrow. The only thing he'd regretted was that he didn't have anyone to clean up his shoes afterward.

Maybe it was one of those days that it finally hit Paul and he broke the spell too…

He ate Brian.

He ate Brian.

It was in his head everyday, as he sat in his jail cell, holding those little pictures of Brian and smiling to himself. Maybe someday, they ca be together again. In death. But first, Paul had to suffer.

Maybe it was times like these that Cupid realised that real love was like that - disturbing, sad and strong.

Cupid could remember his first day of love but his type of love was more fatherly than ever. Holding onto his son for the first time made him the happiest person in the world and with that, Cupid put down the picture of his son. A Brian Kendrick at the age of six, without a tooth.

* * *

…**meow'd. Short. I know.**

**It's 4 AM. _ I has too many peoples. D:**

**X Sam.**


End file.
